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RETURN, MY SON
You are a branch torn from my trunk
My bark aches, split open at last,
You fly with tender, chaste, new shoots,
You will discover fire in your journey
You will grow cold, defeated by sorrow
You will hear the birdsong,
Your true landscape is the forest of your lineage,
Your flower nurtures the true fruit
And if one day you wish to return
In our treetop the wind howls and mourns,
Come and take your place beneath the sun;
Traductora: Vekas Rodica
Portada "Maternidad..., es poesía" Índice "Maternidad..., es poesía" Postales con las poesías de este libro Libros de Emma-Margarita R. A.-Valdés
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