We do not possess what I believe it was Plato who said so and did it describe the obvious. If I have to Madrid, in a sudden spring, their night-soaked cobblestones of old streets and sidewalks washed giant trees and avenues of mottled shadow, if I have all that, what I miss, I wish, like a new women's distinct aroma. But I'm here in Madrid in my youth, where every corner and every bar I remember an episode reunited initiation or indifference, then I can only think of vast expanse of blue ocean view from the top of the mountains, above the green of the pines, while the land of Roden, fine as talcum powder, stain my hackneyed sports. I Castilian, but I wish the Mediterranean, live by the sea but I miss the dry lands. And if the light can be both wave and corpuscle, why would not I be the plateau Celtiberian a while Iberian coast.
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