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teen poems

¡bajo!' tis a la noche de la gala
todavía recuerdo sin duda alguna
mi alma es un campo arado oscuro
en pueda
la tierra guarda cierto ir de la vibración
dígame menos o dígame más
el olor del se levantó tan falso, las espinas tan verdades
su cara es justa y lisa y fina
melancolía, azul era
los poetas dicen
a través del pecho de dolor de la amplia tierra
pero alas, sueños justos

 



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