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romantic poem

ruédeme abajo por el prado
el prado se arrastraba
la noche era negra y drear
una tormenta está montando en la marea
dĂ­game no
bucks negros gordos en un cuarto del vino-barril
suave como la cama en la tierra
la luna de levantamiento ha ocultado las estrellas
y todavĂ­a caminaron encendido

 



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