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fall poetry

déme el hambre
behold yo, en mi chiffon, gasa y malla
venido abajo en el amanecer de las colinas windless
los días hypocritic
quizás no es ninguna materia que usted murió
de la canción y del sueño para ido siempre
vi las nubes entre las colinas
todavía su gris oscila la torre sobre el mar
usted es mi compañero
estos corazones fueron tejidos de alegrías y de cuidados humanos

 



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