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poem

le estoy cantando
había un strangeness en sus labios
todavía recuerdo sin duda alguna
lo vi una vez antes
felicidad
fuera del mar chispeante
tráigame la canción suave
pueden hablar de amor en una cabaña
este tazón de fuente de plata antiguo el míos
no hay presa yo de pensamientos pobres
al revés, dé vuelta al revés
debajo de la hoja oscura del laurel
no esté enojado con mí

 



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