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poem for dad

viejo vino a beber
asustado no más, digo
¡bajo!' tis a la noche de la gala
de'bil-se va volando la canción
aquí cae ninguna luz
a lo largo de una orilla
las naves están mintiendo en la bahía
calma como que segundo verano
algunos días más ventosos
la oscuridad roba las formas de todas las reinas
porqué son las cosas que no tienen ninguna muerte

 



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