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haiku poem

paredes y enorme altos
déme
la señora, su corazón ha dado vuelta al polvo
sueño, hermano gris de la muerte
debajo de la luna de la cosecha
para la verdad, para el amor
un pequeño melocotón en la huerta creció
ahora mientras que están viviendo mis labios
a qué una mujer la comparará querida
una vez este césped suave
por completo de rasgones
se van los tres, esas hermanas raras

 



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