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kid poem

vea que me doy usted
vea, ellos vuelven
no me quemo ningún incienso
fuera del profundo y de la obscuridad
en el frunce de la oscuridad y piden
uno por uno, como se va de un árbol
es verdad que usted dice que los dioses son más uso a usted que hadas
porqué son las cosas que no tienen ninguna muerte
sobre el río hacen señas a mí

 



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