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teen poetry

meine Mutter twines mich die Roses, die mit Tau naß sind
schwach-weak-winged Song
sie fragen mich, wo ich gewesen bin
Hinausschieben, vainly kämpfend
ruhig mit reverance, im Awe
unnachgiebige Vergangenheit des thou
rühren Sie sich
wenn Freiheit von ihrer Gebirgshöhe
dieses ist das Arsenal
hören Sie

 



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