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lyric poetry

no puedo ahora decirle
todavía recuerdo sin duda alguna
calma como que segundo verano
una sombra gris fina en el borde del pensamiento
un poeta, tomando el frenillo de su lengüeta
tristes son que saben no amor
entre el humo y la niebla de una tarde de diciembre
debajo de mi ventana en una calle de la ciudad
hermoso
está a menudo no tan?
tráigame la canción suave

 



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