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child poem

es war der Herbst des Jahres
ich sah mit geöffneten Augen
das traurigste des Jahres
hatten er und i aber getroffen
unter dem Helm des Warriors
die Luft ist von Dämmerung und Frühling voll
steigender Mond hat die Sterne versteckt
und so geht sie
und wie Sie Traum der Sitzung konnten
Stadt, die nicht eine Stadt ist

 



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