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poem for dad

en septiembre
no hay multitud, no obstante está mirado y tendido
no hay presa yo de pensamientos pobres
para mĂ­ era concejal gaunt, grave
a qué una mujer la comparará querida
vi las nubes entre las colinas
él incluso tendría su broma
el rodillo triste del tambor amortiguado tiene golpe
es usted despierto?

 



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