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father poem

mi madre me trenza las rosas mojadas con rocío
el más triste del año
no cuelgue ninguna guirnalda
se hace el día
arrojé mi alma al aire como un vuelo del halcón
las viejas canciones
ella era una belleza en los días
muy bien, usted liberales
no hay escape al lado del río
hago mi cubierta, pero nadie sabe
ponemos

 



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