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love poems

por lo tanto no puedo
al amante apasionado
paredes y enorme altos
los poetas dicen
soy una mujer
no sea falso
sobre ellas todas, mirando abajo
un pequeño melocotón en la huerta creció
ella era una belleza en los días
ésta es la canción de la juventud
sacudaro mi pelo en el viento de la mañana
pasado implacable del thou

 



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