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mom poem

cuando usted viene esta noche
ponemos
apenas ahora
¡bajo!' tis a la noche de la gala
vi con los ojos abiertos
ésos en el superior dicen que le conocen, tierra -- son mentirosos
un pequeño melocotón en la huerta creció
ido antes de nosotros
buena mujer
cuando volví en la puesta del sol
todos dentro y todos sin mí
no del mundo ancho del conjunto
en pueda
tiene usted el caminar visto a través de la aldea

 



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