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The light shone from here,
the date of the resurrection,

the moment of the ages,
and the death of the graves,

from here and the call went out!"
As he shouted his cry, with the birth of the revolution!

Without Scepter without horses.
Its summer migration met us without shade,

frightened in its palms,
watered from the mouth of thirst,
and stripped from the clouds of darkness
chasing the sun,

running after it yesterday,
finding whispers ,steps and the north wind.

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