Podrá nublarse el sol eternamente
At a moment in March;
Podrá romperse el eje de la tierra
Like a crystal.
Todo Sukdra! Podlala Murt
cubrirme con su fúnebre crespón；
But in my opinion,
Your lover
Rima LX
Because this is an inherited story.
What do you like? Just like me,
What do you think of life?
I love it.
Alma's altar
Volunteer of your image,
Your life is full of passion.
When you want it.
Do you work in a company? o
Living in the concept of television ...
Do you want to sleep here? o
Is that so? ar！
Rima LVII
Do you know what your goal is?
Do you know what language your secretary can speak?
Te ríes？ ... argon Dia.
Ballas, what about you? I. por qué:
Hello, I'm good, hello.
How are you? As,
Do you know that?/You know what? os ves
Just like a free man calling in your France.
Te ríes？ ... argon Dia Sabras, and you? I. por qué:
Hello, I'm good, hello.
Where are you? Where are you?
You penetrated your mother's fog.
Te ríes？ ... argon Dia Sabras, and you? I. por qué:
I know you are busy, but there is nothing.
I don't know you. I'm leaving.
Rima XXIV
This is a big mistake, and it is a big mistake.
This is a man's age,
In this space, we can hear sound and sound.
This is my first time to play games.
This is a boy from Plata.
This is Mediterranean steam,
You're with a white man.
Thought is equal,
This is a good time,
What does this mean,
This is our dream.
Rima IV
I don't know what you want to say, please say:
podráno Haber poetas； But what I want to say is.
My eyes look like a deer.
My eyes look like burning and burning flames;
Su En Regasso Loew perfume and perfume;
I am in the world of spring,
Habla Portia!
I know nothing about the science of life,
You met by chance in March or April.
The humanitarian voice is getting louder and louder.
No sepa a dócamina；;
I have a man's secret,
Habla Portia!
My mother turned Alma's singing into blues;
My eyes look like a little mouse;
Minetra El corazon and La Cabeca battaglia do Prosi Gan;
I want to know,
Habla Portia!
I have a son, whose son is from Milan;
My voice responds to the sad voice;
I feel like a work by Confucius;
I have a woman? Habla Portia!