When I was young and poor,
when little was much,
when I was nimble and never tired,
and the hours of the day were deep and long,
where was the end that was already committed?...
nowhere, nowhere!
Just the gift of forgetfulness gracious and kindwhile
I ran up hills and drank the wind-time out of mind.
Mary Oliver
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Era verano.
Entonces era verano lo que hacia que pudiéramos estar mas distendidos y que las flores y los pájaros alegraran nuestras vidas. El mar nos r...
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