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religious poem

pero no puedo ahora leerle
he oído que cierta princesa
por la orilla, por el mar
todavía su gris oscila la torre sobre el mar
claro de luna profundo y blando
aunque repine del amor, y rozadura de la razón
mi madre me trenza las rosas mojadas con rocío
usted piensa, mi muchacho, cuando pongo mis brazos alrededor de usted
suave como la cama en la tierra
déjenos compasión los de quienes sea mejor que nosotros son
lo van

 



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