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urdu poetry

suavemente llorando
en alguna parte leí un cuento extraño, viejo, oxidado
flores de bebés
usted es hermoso y descolorado
los días melancólicos han venido
amigo, que sonrisa ha venido ser
le cuento con
las verdades tremendas éstos sean
cuando los mar-vientos perforaron nuestras soledades
el más triste del año
suave como la cama en la tierra
debajo de un árbol de la castaña que se separa

 



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