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child poem

¡bajo!' tis a la noche de la gala
mejore que el granito
ella sabe un lanzamiento barato
le estoy cantando
arrojé mi alma al aire como un vuelo del halcón
me preguntan donde he estado
la oscuridad rueda hacia arriba
no hay presa yo de pensamientos pobres
hay un país por completo del vino
cuando miraba en sus ojos
las verdades tremendas éstos sean

 



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