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sad death poem

no hay multitud, no obstante está mirado y tendido
aquí cae ninguna luz
aflíjase no para el invisible
amo mi hora del viento y de la luz
dentro de este sepulcro humilde un conqueror miente
ciudad que no es una ciudad
vea que me doy usted
sueño, hermano gris de la muerte
el cielo
por la orilla, por el mar
muy bien, usted liberales

 



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