鈥淓l amor, madre a la patria,
No es el amor rid铆culo a la tierra,
Ni a la yerba que pisan nuestras plantas;
Es el odio invencible a quien la oprime,
Es el rencor eterno a quien la ataca;
Y tal amor despierta en nuestro pecho
El mundo de recuerdos que nos llama
A la vida otra vez鈥︹��.
Jos茅 Juli谩n Marti P茅rez
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