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funeral poem

por la orilla, por el mar
encima de los prados ricos con maíz
dígame menos o dígame más
en un viejo compartimiento se encendió suavemente
ella debe ir detrás, ella dijo
estoy muriendo
si el asesino rojo piensa él mata
los poetas dicen
la agonía del tener demasiada energía
travails de la tierra
tengo que decir buonas noches
todos esos tesoros que mienten
ochenta años han pasado, y más

 



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