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haiku poem

pienso a menudo en la ciudad hermosa
soy cansado de ser amargo y cansado de ser sabio
por el puente grosero
vi con los ojos abiertos
ponemos
le detesté
él habla no bien
hace de largo la luz del sol del verano brillar
qué nosotros ahora hará
antes del santo de bronce solemne
déjenos compasión los de quienes sea mejor que nosotros son
cuando volví en la puesta del sol

 



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