Un coraz贸n, del cu谩l no brota m谩s que mi ruina,
Una voz, tan celestial que mi condena sentencia,
Dos manos, cuyo rencor al destierro me env铆an,
Y con dulce veneno la misma alma envuelve
Un adorno, as铆 parece, en Para铆so creado,
De todo ingenio.
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