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math poem

entre el humo y la niebla de una tarde de diciembre
le hizo oyen hablar siempre
hermoso
cuál deseo comentar
cuando la noche mandila a lo largo de las calles de la ciudad
ciudad que no es una ciudad
no hay presa yo de pensamientos pobres
como él de quién alcohol en el resplandor del mediodía
debajo del timón del guerrero
no esté enojado con mí
si había sabido el estrecho una prisión es amor
con la puesta del sol

 



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