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brother poem

velas que derriban de lado en latas del tomate
debajo de mi ventana en una calle de la ciudad
estoy parado en el tiempo gris frío
entre las montańas vagué
suavemente ahora la luz del día
cuando los mar-vientos perforaron nuestras soledades
tenía un sueńo y me desperté con él
todavía trece ańos

 



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