Avila
(1)
The badly wounded and the poorMove round the city with the sunAnd little else to keep them warm,
While time softens cathedral stone,Plucks eagles bald and breaks the wingsOf St Teresa's doves in flight.
(2)
A fine day shows up broken teeth,Club feet, ten thumbs and squinting eyes,The signs of under-privileged genes.Such people built the city walls,
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