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christmas poems

en su vuelo
mi hijo es muerto y soy persiana que va
debajo de un árbol de la castaña que se separa
es usted vivo?
he echado el mundo
en pueda
ruidos que se esfuerzan rasgarse
he visto las estrellas más orgullosas
mi alma va revestida en cosas magníficas
el amo de destinos humanos es yo
mi dolor, cuando ella está aquí con mí
a alguno los dioses gordos
una vez este césped suave

 



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