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mother poem

es verdad que usted dice que los dioses son más uso a usted que hadas
hice un voto una vez, uno solamente
mi hijo es muerto y soy persiana que va
porqué hágale siempre soporte allí que tiembla
mire hacia fuera sobre las estrellas, mi amor
una tormenta está montando en la marea
no hay presa yo de pensamientos pobres
flores de bebés
en la medianoche
las estrellas cayeron de cielo

 



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