They say that the sun doesn't rest from delivering all of it's light. But I tire of searching for it. It's human and I burn my grape leaf without fear as I lay beside a woman (of good or bad repute) speaking into her ear: From the bottom of dark things we shall rise.
Dicen que no se cansa el sol De entregar toda su luz Pero yo me aburro de buscarlo. Es humano Y quemo sin temor mi hoja de parra Y me tiendo junto a una mujer -de buena O mala fama- Diciéndole al oído: desde El fondo de las cosas oscuras subiremos.
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