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sister poem

nunca sabía que la tierra tenía tanto oro
es verdad que usted dice que los dioses son más uso a usted que hadas
pero alas, sueños justos
todos tragan los años
hace de largo la luz del sol del verano brillar
todavía su gris oscila la torre sobre el mar
había tres en el prado al lado del arroyo
mi amor verdadero de su almohadilla se levantó
estoy muriendo
para entonces fuera
trenzado y tejido
oscuro-eyed

 



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