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las montañas son gente silenciosa
pienso a menudo en la ciudad hermosa
es verdad que usted dice que los dioses son más uso a usted que hadas
amo mi vida, pero no demasiado bien
flor blanca de la espuma, flor roja de la llama
déjeme ser triste
soplador de vidrio del tiempo
melancolía, azul era
a qué una mujer la comparará querida
llevo a cabo su corazón

 



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