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sad poetry

y como caminamos la hierba fue revuelta débilmente
algún se quejó al amo
debajo de la luna de la cosecha
qué nosotros ahora hará
repentinamente, fuera de maneras oscuras y frondosas
¡bajo!' tis a la noche de la gala
hay una ciudad, builded por ninguna mano
quizás
la música i oído con usted era más que música
una pluma del acero
ido antes de nosotros

 



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