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spanish poem

um céu que nunca soubesse o sol, a lua ou as estrelas
nobility da morte outra vez
quem estará nomeando o vento
minha mãe ensinou-me que cada noite
na esfera
em seus braços estava o prazer imóvel
eu vi com olhos abertos
todos aqueles tesouros que se encontram
vinho velho a beber
raça elevado-carregada
aqueles olhos pretos i elogiado uma vez assim
frequentemente eu penso da cidade bonita
meu sorrow, quando for aqui com mim
eu ganhei a raça

 



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