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autumn poem

los drowses pálidos del día en el occidental empapan
estoy en amor con los altos lugares far-seeing
a alguno los dioses gordos
lo vi una vez antes
todos dentro y todos sin mí
el rodillo triste del tambor amortiguado tiene golpe
como vela blanca
tome mis pulseras
mi hijo es muerto y soy persiana que va
como ella
disparando para arriba, cayendo abajo


 



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