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poem for dad

dos filas de coles
o justo y stately criada, que ojos
el pequeńo lamentable, usado, caras el reír
déjeme moverse lentamente a través de la calle
él vino tomarme por la mano
el dulce con el fern y se levantó
la seńora, su corazón ha dado vuelta al polvo
suavemente ahora la luz del día
para arropar el pensamiento ardiente

 



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