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sad death poem

los drowses pálidos del día en el occidental empapan
el existir del cisne
el amanecer era verde
una sombra gris fina en el borde del pensamiento
nunca sabía que la tierra tenía tanto oro
si muero, piense solamente esto en mí
soy el viento que duda
burly, humilde-abeja el dormitar
porqué lo haga
un pensamiento dulce solemne
gloom
quién nombrará el viento
simplemente hablando

 



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