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lyric poem

es gibt keine Menge, gleichwohl aufgepaßt und geneigt
seien Sie nicht falsch
ein süß ernster Gedanke
weiße Schaumgummiblume, rote Flammeblume
in das leise Land
Ruhe als die zweiter Sommer
er warfen einen Stein, Sie warfen einen Stein
die langen resounding Marmorflure
ich rüttele mein Haar im Wind des Morgens
umsponnen und gesponnen

 



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