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death poem

su cara es justa y lisa y fina
una pluma del acero
ella estalló el vino feroz
he oído que cierta princesa
placeres mediados de y palacios aunque podemos vagar
entre el humo y la niebla de una tarde de diciembre
voluntad usted brilla tenuemente en el mar?
se hace el día
y mi nombre es veraz

 



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