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lyric poem

pueden hablar de amor en una cabaña
mejore que el granito
tristemente hablando
para estos brazos blancos sobre mi cuello
a alguno los dioses gordos
un poeta, tomando el frenillo de su lengĂĽeta
voy mi manera complacently
venido abajo en el amanecer de las colinas windless
no hay multitud, no obstante está mirado y tendido
porqué son las cosas que no tienen ninguna muerte

 



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