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funeral poem

als ich am Sonnenuntergang zurückkam
es gibt eine Stadt, builded durch keine Hand
folglich kann ich nicht
jetzt, während meine Lippen leben
wickeln Sie die Masse im bewölkten Wetter auf
schön
das Kind, das weg Blatt nach Blatt warf
seit, wenn Sie meine Seite heute bereitstanden
im Bereich

 



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