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entre el humo y la niebla de una tarde de diciembre
no cuelgue ninguna guirnalda
ruidos que se esfuerzan rasgarse
como baja el igualar
a qué una mujer la comparará querida
pero no puedo ahora leerle
todos esos tesoros que mienten
se levantó y el ámbar era la puesta del sol en el río
gaily a través de los campos bailamos
asustado no más, digo
no hay escape al lado del río

 



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