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sad death poem

contra la llama verde del espino-a'rbol
usted piensa, mi muchacho, cuando pongo mis brazos alrededor de usted
debajo de la hoja oscura del laurel
claro de luna profundo y blando
como águilas en colmo ascendente
apenas ahora
veré una estrella esta noche
un pájaro cantó
a qué una mujer la comparará querida
cuando los mar-vientos perforaron nuestras soledades

 



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