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death poetry

haga a muchachos y las muchachas todavía van
ruédeme abajo por el prado
había tres en el prado al lado del arroyo
hay cualquiera allí
no permanezca no más
dulce y fuerte
por completo de rasgones
repentinamente, fuera de maneras oscuras y frondosas
en la tierra silenciosa
hermano, soy fuego
le hizo oyen hablar siempre

 



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