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funeral poem

he visto las estrellas más orgullosas
para estos brazos blancos sobre mi cuello
no del mundo ancho del conjunto
algunos días más ventosos
por lo tanto no puedo
la fragancia vino
se van los tres, esas hermanas raras
dentro de este sepulcro humilde un conqueror miente
ˇbajo!' tis a la noche de la gala
el sol está para arriba
a través del pecho de dolor de la amplia tierra

 



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