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Niche
Kissing the mountain range,
The prairies daughter
Of the buitreras and guaiquillo.
The drains veins of the orchards on the
Cultivated field were opened.
Wide quiet dying earth the seeds of uaral
Germinated from you entrains,
Poised like leaves by the yolks of the branches.
Ironic beautiful land resigned,
You hare inherited me your more intimate song.
I am firewood of you,
A living torture,
I am mist among the poplars.
Side never slope never drink
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