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love poem

die Luft ist von Dämmerung und Frühling voll
ein Dichter, nachdem den Zaum seine Zunge entfernt habend
schöne, tragical Gesichter
haben wir keine Schande?
der Blitz blitzte und hob an
Schlaf süß in Ihren humble Gräbern
gestern Abend legte der Vollmond ein Tuch von Weiß
Nobility des Todes wieder
in allen Sachen gesprochen nicht von


 



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