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nature poem

flores de bebés
un destello del oro en gloom y gris
había tres en el prado al lado del arroyo
ésos en el superior dicen que le conocen, tierra -- son mentirosos
dondeyo encuéntrele
ella oyó a nińos el jugar en el sol
tristes son que saben no amor
deje una subsistencia de la alegría usted

 



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