.Todos se van porque el viento los llama
Y a su guarida no vuelven jamás
Van dados vuelta de frente al pasado
Mirando el tiempo pasar.
Mientras que todos me creen tan errado
Veo al futuro a mis pies crepitar.
Zumba en mi oÃdo un insecto alado
Que ordena a mi lengua vibra.
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