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autumn poem

hay aumentos para todas nuestras pérdidas
estoy en amor con los altos lugares far-seeing
la luz retirada
muy bien, usted liberales
el mirar más allá
rompemos el cristal que vino sagrado
dígame no
dice de buenas viejas épocas
una palabra del vuelo de aquí y allí
tristemente hablando
fuera de la ventana un mar de árboles verdes
dígame menos o dígame más

 



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