Alone, alone world, sad small like a nightingale serenading infinite. — Cisneros Sandra

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Alone, all alone in the world, sad and small like a nightingale serenading the infinite. How could a love so tender and sweet become the cross of my pain? No, no, I can't conceive I won't receive your precious lips again. My eyes are tired of weeping, my heart of beating. If perhaps some crystal moment before dawn or twilight you remember me, bring only a bouquet of tears to lay upon my thirsty grave.

Cisneros Sandra

Related Authors: Cisneros Sandra

Related Topics: alone, eyes, grave, heart, hurt, lips, love, pain, tears

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