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memorial poem

le estoy cantando
en su vuelo
se levantó y el ámbar era la puesta del sol en el río
su cara es justa y lisa y fina
arriba y abajo de él va
una sombra gris fina en el borde del pensamiento
cuando era adaptó Londres
y cómo podría usted sueño de la reunión
tengo que decir buonas noches

 



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