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sad poem

las montañas son gente silenciosa
el amor se ha cantado mil maneras
encima del sur en la rotura del dĂ­a
mi madre me trenza las rosas mojadas con rocĂ­o
fuera de la ventana un mar de árboles verdes
viejo vino a beber
apenas como mis dedos en estas llaves
cuando era adaptĂł Londres
compuesto de loveliness solamente
sobre-habi'a preparado el acontecimiento

 



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