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teen poem

y mi nombre es veraz
a lo largo de una orilla
uno por uno, como se va de un árbol
sueño, hermano gris de la muerte
ella puede ser que lo haya sabido en el resorte anterior
el elevar, como el viento sopló
hay una ciudad, builded por ninguna mano
poca puerta fue alcanzada en el último
todo mi amor para mi dulce
amo mi hora del viento y de la luz

 



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