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grandmother poem

tome mis pulseras
en el puerto de York nueva
sobre el río hacen señas a mí
el sol está para arriba
entre el humo y la niebla de una tarde de diciembre
mi amor verdadero de su almohadilla se levantĂł
los pequeños rezos blancos
la nieve susurra sobre mĂ­
la música i oído con usted era más que música
tiene usted el caminar visto a través de la aldea

 



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