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haiku poem

tristes son que saben no amor
un pequeño melocotón en la huerta creció
éste es el arsenal
las naves están mintiendo en la bahía
si muero, piense solamente esto en mí
arrojé mi alma al aire como un vuelo del halcón
los días endeared a cada MUSE
no puedo sentir siempre su greatness
mi amor verdadero de su almohadilla se levantó
cómo es salvaje, cómo bruja-como extraño que la vida debe ser
sobre el río, en la colina

 



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