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christmas poetry

un pájaro cantó
pero alas, sueños justos
había tres en el prado al lado del arroyo
su cara es justa y lisa y fina
el sentarse en su eje de balancín que espera su té
la lluvia encima, y el aire brillante
éstos sean
amo mi hora del viento y de la luz
todo mi amor para mi dulce
éste es el arsenal
he ganado la raza

 



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