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romantic poem

este tazón de fuente de plata antiguo el míos
mi dolor, cuando ella está aquí con mí
cuando era un muchacho en la universidad
de largo hace, en el claro de luna joven
no puedo sentir siempre su greatness
uno por uno, como se va de un árbol
pero alas, sueños justos
ochenta años han pasado, y más
si había sabido el estrecho una prisión es amor

 



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