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debajo de un árbol de la castaña que se separa
la medianoche pasada
era el otoño del año
usted está claro
con los ojos mansos, marrones
me pregunto a veces si es realmente verdad
he echado el mundo
una niebla conducía abajo
en el amanecer, él dijo
fuera de mí indigno y desconocido
una sombra gris fina en el borde del pensamiento

 



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