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thanksgiving poetry

suavemente llorando
si él
si el asesino rojo piensa él mata
dentro de este sepulcro humilde un conqueror miente
ella tiene un claro, loveliness viento-abrigado
y como caminamos la hierba fue revuelta débilmente
ponemos
la música i oído con usted era más que música
en la esfera
por la orilla, por el mar
fuera del profundo y de la obscuridad
mi alma es un campo arado oscuro

 



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