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short poem

pájaros contra el viento de abril
tristes son que saben no amor
vea el tentativo
el mirar más allá
porqué lo haga
quizás no es ninguna materia que usted murió
esposa querida
el aire es como una mariposa
una tormenta está montando en la marea
cuando libertad de su altura de la montaña
cuando usted viene esta noche
cuando las horas del día se numeran

 



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