Tan muchas piedras se han lanzado en m, eso me no asustan de ellas ms, y el hoyo se ha convertido en una torre slida, alta entre torres altas. Agradezco los constructores, cuidado de mayo y la tristeza los pasa cerca. Aqu de m ver la salida del sol anterior, aqu el rayo pasado del sun rejoices. Y en las ventanas de mi sitio las brisas norteas vuelan a menudo y de mi mano una paloma come granos del trigo En cuanto a mi pgina inacabada, la mano rojiza del MUSE, divinamente tranquilo y delicado, la acabar.
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