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mom poem

para la verdad, para el amor
porqué hágale siempre soporte allí que tiembla
¡bajo!' tis a la noche de la gala
nunca en toda mi vida
y con el pájaro del tarareo
entre el humo y la niebla de una tarde de diciembre
cuando miraba en sus ojos
mi madre me enseñó que cada noche
vea, de esta falsificación de él

 



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