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epic poetry

camino abajo de las trayectorias del jardín
mi alma es un campo arado oscuro
el eliminar, luchando vainly
caído tan
soplador de vidrio del tiempo
por las mañanas nube-grises
para la verdad, para el amor
una palabra del vuelo de aquí y allí
en la medianoche
todo mi amor para mi dulce
el más triste del año
si muero, piense solamente esto en mí

 



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