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mom poem

¡bajo!' tis a la noche de la gala
se levantó y el ámbar era la puesta del sol en el río
vi la primera pera
hombre frío severo
como águilas en colmo ascendente
solitario y solitario
camino abajo de las trayectorias del jardín
cómo es salvaje, cómo bruja-como extraño que la vida debe ser

 



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