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una sombra gris fina en el borde del pensamiento
veo todos los ingenios humanos
amo las viejas endechas melodious
pero no puedo ahora leerle
nosotros que estaban parados
levantado de los muertos
cuando la noche mandila a lo largo de las calles de la ciudad
en el puerto de York nueva
había un strangeness en sus labios


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