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Córdoba,
distant and alone.
Black pony, big moon,
olives in my saddlebag.
Though I know these roads,
I’ll never reach Córdoba.
Through the plains, through wind,
black pony, red moon,
death watching me
from the high towers of Córdoba.
Ay! What a long road.
Ay! What a brave pony.
Ay! Death, you will take me,
on the road to Córdoba.
Córdoba,
distant and alone.
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