Nueva York, la capital de Dadá

Estoy contemplando Central Park, ahí abajo, y me viene el recuerdo de un hombre alto y con el pelo blanco recitando su poema “Los colores rojo y negro” hace medio siglo en una pequeña ciudad del norte de Rumania. Mientras contemplo el parque, recuerdo aquellos versos de la época estalinista:

                                   En Nueva York, todo es bello.

                                   Llegan héroes y se van.

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