.Sharif, Sharif
Y Señora Tomasa
Yo canto a las manos del que solo tiene
La sangre oscura de su herida
Y canto al hermano que perdió los trenes
Rumbo a la tierra prometida
Yo canto a la calle y al tiempo que hiere
Y al humo que calma el lamento
Yo canto a la noche con versos.
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