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spanish poem

oscuro-eyed
dondeyo encuéntrele
él vino tomarme por la mano
todos se callan a lo largo del potomac
una vez este césped suave
escrito en una noche del vuelo
splendor dulce
amo robar un rato lejos
expresemos nuestras pasiones más bajas
los pequeños rezos blancos
¡bajo!' tis a la noche de la gala
una palabra del vuelo de aquĂ­ y allĂ­

 



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