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love poem

de la canción y del sueńo para ido siempre
porqué tan es triste mi encantador?
hago mi cubierta, pero nadie sabe
nobleza de la muerte otra vez
no puedo ahora decirle
como águilas en colmo ascendente
hay cualquiera allí
los días endeared a cada MUSE
burly, humilde-abeja el dormitar
una pluma del acero

 



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