If I was a sculptor, it would catch the band west of the Mountain range of the Bushes, e l, of that one cut of blue granite, to the fast corisco it would make to fall vertical line, one appears in Rooster-and-iron, Blacksmith, e the hair that the face talhos, gone down of suffering, gone up of loving, in c?rnea tones rija, cemento of armor medieva
?onde, in?ltima face, the risk?
e Cervantes, Gullar Galo-Galo Blacksmith and Poet, when the poem one would reveal? dawn rubra of All Poetry and book in rock and Rooster and bronze...
0 