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mother poem

pienso a menudo en la ciudad hermosa
lleno esta taza
pájaros contra el viento de abril
miré sobre el cielo glorioso
no éramos muchos
asustado no más, digo
los días melancólicos han venido
dice de buenas viejas épocas
con rojo de la sangre de los labios y el corazón de la piedra
no se aflija que encima

 



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