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christian poem

vi que el dios usted la duda?
lo vi una vez antes
no hay presa yo de pensamientos pobres
raza alto-llevada
mi alma va revestida en cosas magníficas
si él
mi amor verdadero de su almohadilla se levantó
mi madre me trenza las rosas mojadas con rocío
quizás
la noche es oscura, y los vientos del invierno

 



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