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笔趣阁 > The Poetry of Federico García Lorca > Gacela of the Dark Death

Gacela of the Dark Death

t table of gold in my lips;

t i am t wing;

t i am tense sears.

cover me at dah a veil,

because dafuls of ants at me,

and er my shoes

so t the scorpion slide.

for i to sleep the apples,

to lea a lament t o earth;

for i to live dark child

o cut on the high seas.

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