Friday, June 7, 2019

Humos Comments

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Está quieta la tarde en el café. Pasa
la niña que pide y
se llama Mari. Su tristeza
pisa la ciudad y rostros
que dieron su vida por la vida y
la niña repite. El sueño
es un libro enrollado, echa humo
como si fuera un horno grande. Su mano dice
que el mundo es cóncavo.
...
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Juan Gelman
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Juan Gelman

Juan Gelman

Buenos Aires
Juan Gelman
Juan Gelman
Buenos Aires
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1/30/2026 11:55:23 AM # 1.0.0

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