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romantic poem

el amanecer era verde
puesto que he sentido el sentido de la muerte
la noche es oscura, y los vientos del invierno
y cómo podría usted sueño de la reunión
hay cualquiera allí
los drowses pálidos del día en el occidental empapan
de largo hace, en el claro de luna joven
suavemente llorando
una palabra del vuelo de aquí y allí
los poetas dicen
ella puede ser que lo haya sabido en el resorte anterior

 



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