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epic poetry

para estos brazos blancos sobre mi cuello
la noche es oscura, y los vientos del invierno
los arcos del puente rojo
la luz retirada
sobre-habi'a preparado el acontecimiento
sea paciente, vida, cuando el amor está en la puerta
en números mournful
el eliminar, luchando vainly
ella era una belleza en los días
amo mi hora del viento y de la luz
todavía recuerdo sin duda alguna

 



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