the old time she stood in the shade
the cross appeared in the dark with a stone
raised his head like a child at the grave
the stream of shadows gliding in the darkness
we are all tremendously sure there is no way of seeing anything
a battle with her own soul
the beating of a silver branch
the dead in the light of the stars
god of old men and priests
I don’t think I can see you for a long time
hanging a piece of other women
fell up and down in the dark
face of the lover that did not win
world of strange constant spirits
woman in a boat of the dead
memories of indolent sounds
the hand of the time is so strange
I had no idea what was necessary
the wall began to be stained
lost in the waters shadow
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