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poetry poem

quién ama la lluvia
cómoyo ayude a la derecha al mundo que va mal
nosotros que estaban parados
camino abajo de las trayectorias del jardín
hace mil ańos silenciosos
el aire es lleno de amanecer y de resorte
cuando era un muchacho en la universidad
soy cansado de ser amargo y cansado de ser sabio
el solo puńo apretado levantado y alista
quién nombrará el viento
hace tres ańos hoy

 



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