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father poem

los drowses pálidos del día en el occidental empapan
todos esos tesoros que mienten
como vela blanca
suavemente llorando
algún se quejó al amo
nosotros que estaban parados
apenas ahora
suavemente ahora la luz del día
porqué lo haga
estoy parado en el tiempo gris frío
el cuerpo puede confinar
había una época en años anteriores

 



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