Dreaming in Celadon

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IT WAS RAINING in Bilbao. Lovers need to know how to lose themselves and then how to find themselves again. He was able to do both well. Now he was happy, and as we returned to the hotel he sang: Son los locos que inventaron el amor. The song was right: it must have been the lunatics who invented love.
By the River Piedra I Sat Down and Wept
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