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antes del santo de bronce solemne
lo van
mire detrás con los ojos longing y sepa que seguiré
sacudaro mi pelo en el viento de la mañana
vi la primera pera
expresemos nuestras pasiones más bajas
el niño que lanzó lejos la hoja después de la hoja
ella dijo
cuando un hecho se hace para la libertad
éstos sean
serene de la tarde y brillante verdes
no puedo ahora decirle

 



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