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teacher poem

hijas del tiempo
la medianoche pasada
en la medianoche
pueden hablar de amor en una cabaña
en su tienda guardada
nobleza de la muerte otra vez
tristes son que saben no amor
la hija, arte del thou viene morir
no hay escape al lado del rĂ­o
dios
en la tierra silenciosa
apenas como mis dedos en estas llaves
él habla no bien
si el asesino rojo piensa él mata

 



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