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grandmother poem

no hay presa yo de pensamientos pobres
oscuro-eyed
sacudaro mi pelo en el viento de la mañana
dos filas de coles
vea el tentativo
dulce y fuerte
en un viejo compartimiento se encendiĂł suavemente
musing, entre la puesta del sol y la obscuridad
las cortinas de la noche caían rápidamente
las verdades tremendas éstos sean
vi la primera pera
truely

 



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