Saturday, January 12, 2008
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Who doesn’t wish for a stubborn spirit? Who doesn’t sharpened the edge of his soul?When, just as our eyes are opened, we see hate,And just after learning to walk, we are tripped,And just for wanting to love, we are hated,And for no more than touching,we are hurt.In the streets,the set up stalls selling masks and the dealer tries on everyone Twilight faces,face of a tiger,Faces sober or virtuous,faces of ancestors,Until the moon dies and in the lampless night we are equal.
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