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spanish poem

las montañas son gente silenciosa
dentro de este sepulcro humilde un conqueror miente
nuestros momentos agradables vuelan
para estos brazos blancos sobre mi cuello
tormenta
cuando miraba en sus ojos
nobleza de la muerte otra vez
la luz retirada
vi que usted hunched y temblando en las piedras

 



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