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poetry poem

mi madre me trenza las rosas mojadas con rocío
encima del sur en la rotura del día
algunos de los daños que usted ha curado
el más triste del año
ésta es la canción de la juventud
puesto que he sentido el sentido de la muerte
el merriment sin fin, absurdo de estrellas
en un viejo compartimiento se encendió suavemente
escuche

 



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