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memorial poem

la oscuridad rueda hacia arriba
sobre ellas todas, mirando abajo
era un oysterman joven alto
de la canción y del sueño para ido siempre
he venido en el desierto porque mi alma es athirst
materia de la luna
se levantó y el ámbar era la puesta del sol en el río
dentro de este sepulcro humilde un conqueror miente
buena mujer
espléndido y terrible su amor

 



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