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spanish poem

él vino tomarme por la mano
hace mil años silenciosos
por el puente grosero
porqué entonces, la necesidad nosotros ve?
por las mañanas nube-grises
el olor del se levantó tan falso, las espinas tan verdades
sé no dónde
babylon -- donde voy a soñar
mi alma va revestida en cosas magníficas

 



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