Suavemente, en la oscuridad, una mujer me est cantando; Tomndome detrs abajo de la Vista de aos, hasta que veo a nio de A el sentarse debajo del piano, en el auge de las secuencias el zumbar y presionar el pequeo, contrapesada pies de una madre que sonre mientras que ella canta.
A pesar de me, la maestra insidiosa de la cancin me traiciona detrs, hasta que el corazn de m llora para pertenecer a las viejas tardes de domingo en el pas, con el exterior y los himnos del invierno en la sala acogedora, el piano que tintinea nuestra gua.
Es intil tan ahora para que el cantante estalle en clamor con el gran appassionato negro del piano. El glamor de das infantiles est sobre m, mi manhood se echa abajo en la inundacin del remembrance, yo llora como un nio para el pasado.
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