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romantic poem

nuestros momentos agradables vuelan
hay una hora del resto pacífico
ciudad que no es una ciudad
travails de la tierra
sé no dónde
usted oye la lluvia?
el sol está para arriba
ese año
este tazón de fuente de plata antiguo el míos
asustado no más, digo
rompemos el cristal que vino sagrado
voy mi manera complacently
renueve la visión del placer
para estos brazos blancos sobre mi cuello

 



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