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spanish poem

long ago, in the young moonlight
i had over-prepared the event
the long resounding marble corridors
little park that i pass through
shines the last age, the next with hope is seen
while i stood listening, discreetly dumb
the little pitiful, worn, laughing faces
what spiteful chance steals unawares
like him whose spirit in the blaze of noon
this is the song of youth
sweet splendor

 



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