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grandma poem

el olor del se levantó tan falso, las espinas tan verdades
ahora que me he refrescado a usted
fuera de la ventana un mar de árboles verdes
un pájaro cantó
no se aflija que encima
ella cojea con parar paso doloroso
los días endeared a cada MUSE
sueño dulce en sus sepulcros humildes
ruédeme abajo por el prado
mi alma va revestida en cosas magníficas

 



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