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short love poem

los arcos del puente rojo
ruédeme abajo por el prado
no éramos muchos
nunca sabĂ­a que la tierra tenĂ­a tanto oro
splendor dulce
materia de la luna
en y encendido
o justo y stately criada, que ojos
al revés, dé vuelta al revés
ido antes de nosotros

 



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