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porqué son las cosas que no tienen ninguna muerte
los poetas dicen
ésos en el superior dicen que le conocen, tierra -- son mentirosos
sacudaro mi pelo en el viento de la mañana
gloom
si era muy seguro
la señora, su corazón ha dado vuelta al polvo
arriba y abajo de él va
y cómo podría usted sueño de la reunión
hay aumentos para todas nuestras pérdidas
ella era una belleza en los días
usted oye la lluvia?

 



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