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short poem

ruédeme abajo por el prado
¡bajo!' tis a la noche de la gala
tristemente hablando
tan perdido
lleno esta taza
flor blanca de la espuma, flor roja de la llama
el aire es lleno de amanecer y de resorte
en un viejo compartimiento se encendió suavemente
una vez este césped suave
para la verdad, para el amor
al lado de un campo afectado
me pregunto donde usted vive
hace tres años hoy

 



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