.Romperá la tarde mi voz
Hasta el eco de ayer>Voy quedándome solo al final
Muerto de sed, harto de andar>Pero sigo creciendo en el sol
Vivo
Era el tiempo viejo la flor>La madera frutal
Luego el hacha se puso a golpear>Verse caer, sólo rodar>Pero el árbol reverdecerá.
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