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spanish poem

why do
sleep, gray brother of death
what was it the engines said
rocked in the cradle of the deep
i am in love with high far-seeing places
take my bracelets
and breaketh bread no more
when i looked into your eyes
moonlight deep and tender
doubtless i remember still
so fallen
let us pity those who are better off than we are
she knows a cheap release
i think it just splendid

 



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