Poemas a la muerte

Poemas a la muerte

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I went to thank Her —

But She Slept —

Her Bed — a funneled Stone —

With Nosegays at the Head and Foot —

That Travellers — had thrown —

Who went to thank Her —

But She Slept —

‘Twas Short — to cross the Sea —

To look upon Her like — alive —

But turning back — ‘twas slow —

â—„


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