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𝐴 𝑣𝑒𝑐𝑒𝑠 𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑜 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑛𝑎𝑑𝑎 𝑡𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑒 𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑑𝑜. 𝐸𝑛 𝑢𝑛 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑒𝑡𝑎 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑢́𝑠𝑐𝑢𝑙𝑜, 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑟𝑟𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑐𝑖𝑎 𝑙𝑎 𝑛𝑎𝑑𝑎 𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑑𝑒 𝑚𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑒𝑠 𝑑𝑒 𝑎𝑛̃𝑜𝑠, 𝑛𝑎𝑐𝑒𝑚𝑜𝑠 𝑒𝑛 𝑚𝑒𝑑𝑖𝑜 𝑑𝑒 𝑑𝑜𝑙𝑜𝑟𝑒𝑠, 𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑐𝑒𝑚𝑜𝑠, 𝑙𝑢𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑚𝑜𝑠, 𝑛𝑜𝑠 𝑒𝑛𝑓𝑒𝑟𝑚𝑎𝑚𝑜𝑠, 𝑠𝑢𝑓𝑟𝑖𝑚𝑜𝑠, ℎ𝑎𝑐𝑒𝑚𝑜𝑠 𝑠𝑢𝑓𝑟𝑖𝑟, 𝑔𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑎𝑚𝑜𝑠, 𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑚𝑜𝑠, 𝑚𝑢𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑛 𝑦 𝑜𝑡𝑟𝑜𝑠 𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑎́𝑛 𝑛𝑎𝑐𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑜 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑎 𝑣𝑜𝑙𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑎 𝑒𝑚𝑝𝑒𝑧𝑎𝑟 𝑙𝑎 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑑𝑖𝑎 𝑖𝑛𝑢́𝑡𝑖𝑙.
𝐴 𝑣𝑒𝑐𝑒𝑠 𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑜 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑛𝑎𝑑𝑎 𝑡𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑒 𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑑𝑜. 𝐸𝑛 𝑢𝑛 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑒𝑡𝑎 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑢́𝑠𝑐𝑢𝑙𝑜, 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑟𝑟𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑐𝑖𝑎 𝑙𝑎 𝑛𝑎𝑑𝑎 𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑑𝑒 𝑚𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑒𝑠 𝑑𝑒 𝑎𝑛̃𝑜𝑠, 𝑛𝑎𝑐𝑒𝑚𝑜𝑠 𝑒𝑛 𝑚𝑒𝑑𝑖𝑜 𝑑𝑒 𝑑𝑜𝑙𝑜𝑟𝑒𝑠, 𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑐𝑒𝑚𝑜𝑠, 𝑙𝑢𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑚𝑜𝑠, 𝑛𝑜𝑠 𝑒𝑛𝑓𝑒𝑟𝑚𝑎𝑚𝑜𝑠, 𝑠𝑢𝑓𝑟𝑖𝑚𝑜𝑠, ℎ𝑎𝑐𝑒𝑚𝑜𝑠 𝑠𝑢𝑓𝑟𝑖𝑟, 𝑔𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑎𝑚𝑜𝑠, 𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑚𝑜𝑠, 𝑚𝑢𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑛 𝑦 𝑜𝑡𝑟𝑜𝑠 𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑎́𝑛 𝑛𝑎𝑐𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑜 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑎 𝑣𝑜𝑙𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑎 𝑒𝑚𝑝𝑒𝑧𝑎𝑟 𝑙𝑎 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑑𝑖𝑎 𝑖𝑛𝑢́𝑡𝑖𝑙.
26-30, F
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