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las sombras de las naves
quizás no es ninguna materia que usted murió
el sentarse en su eje de balancín que espera su té
los pequeños rezos blancos
en sus regimentals desiguales
nobleza de la muerte otra vez
asustado no más, digo
sobre los tejados compita con las sombras de nubes
fui arriba y abajo de las calles
si muero, piense solamente esto en mí

 



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