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good bye poem

no puedo ahora decirle
un destello del oro en gloom y gris
babylon -- donde voy a soñar
porqué hágale siempre soporte allí que tiembla
quizás
debajo del timón del guerrero
placeres mediados de y palacios aunque podemos vagar
paredes y enorme altos
no hay multitud, no obstante está mirado y tendido
gaily a través de los campos bailamos

 



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