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poem for dad

su cara es justa y lisa y fina
puesto que he sentido el sentido de la muerte
esos ojos negros i elogiado una vez tan
levantado de los muertos
cuando los mar-vientos perforaron nuestras soledades
y va tan
poca puerta fue alcanzada en el último
algunos días más ventosos
si él
como ella
soy cansado de ser amargo y cansado de ser sabio
quién nombrará el viento

 



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