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spanish poem

se déclenchant vers le haut, tombant vers le bas
peu de parc que je traverse
la fille, art de thou viennent pour mourir
il y a trois manières dont les hommes prennent
c'est le bateau de la perle
mon fils est mort et je suis aveugle allant
quand absence de sa taille de montagne
en septembre
foncé-eyed
je les ai entendus la nuit

 



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