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baby poem

escrito en una noche del vuelo
tengo gusto de ella
veo todos los ingenios humanos
soporte aquí por mi lado
poco parque que paso a través
un destello del oro en gloom y gris
apenas ahora
quizás
he venido en el desierto porque mi alma es athirst
es verdad que usted dice que los dioses son más uso a usted que hadas
se van los tres, esas hermanas raras
la noche es oscura, y los vientos del invierno
hermano, soy fuego

 



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