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father poem

un destello del oro en gloom y gris
he echado el mundo
mi madre me enseñó que cada noche
como baja el igualar
debajo de la hoja oscura del laurel
no esté enojado con mí
dije
en la medianoche
la agonía del tener demasiada energía
fuera de la ventana un mar de árboles verdes
en sus regimentals desiguales
veo todos los ingenios humanos

 



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