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mom poem

cuando usted viene esta noche
con alegrĂ­a y maravilla
era el otoño del año
las verdades tremendas éstos sean
éstos sean
sé no dónde
los he oĂ­do en la noche
estoy parado en el tiempo gris frĂ­o
estoy muriendo
o justo y stately criada, que ojos
y va tan

 



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