dead on the bank, was an angel of coldness.

Each afternoon the water sits down

Each afternoon in Granada,

and the九_九_藏_書 valley was tumbling with lilies and dogs.

Not a flicker of la九-九-藏-書rk was left in the air

In my hands violet shadow, your body,

The cloudy wind and the clear wind

when you were ｒead•9９ｃｓｗ•ｃoｍdrowned in the river.

Not the crumb of a cloud was left in the ground

each afternoon, a child dies.

The dead weahtｔps://rｅad•９9ｃsｗ•ｃｏmr mossy wings.

when I met you in the caverns of wine.

are two pheasants in flight through the towers,

and chats with i九-九-藏-書ts companions.

and the day is a wounded boy.

A giant of water fell down over the hills,