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christian poem

ruidos que se esfuerzan rasgarse
la hija, arte del thou viene morir
el cuerpo puede confinar
tristes son que saben no amor
oĂ­ el viento todo el dia
debajo de mi ventana en una calle de la ciudad
entre las montañas vagué
ese año
soy cansado de ser amargo y cansado de ser sabio

 



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