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african american poetry

aquí miente una señora más hermosa
en el puerto de York nueva
el viejo oeste, el viejo tiempo
era una diosa ere el mármol me encontró
usted oye la lluvia?
una niebla conducía abajo
aflíjase no para el invisible
en el frunce de la oscuridad y piden
el misterio más oscuro, más extraño
por la orilla, por el mar
he visto las estrellas más orgullosas
éstos sean

 



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