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funeral poem

y va tan
las viejas canciones
sombras coas alas que barren cerca
haga a muchachos y las muchachas todavía van
hay un país por completo del vino
el solo puño apretado levantado y alista
qué yo le deben
era una diosa ere el mármol me encontró
a través del pecho de dolor de la amplia tierra

 



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