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lyric poem

Material des Mondes
unten gekommen an der Dämmerung von den windless Hügeln
Wille schimmern Sie auf dem Meer?
die Dämmerung war apfelgrün
da ich der Richtung des Todes geglaubt habe
ein Himmel, der nie Sonne, Mond oder Sterne gekannt hat
Sie sind frei
häufig denke ich an die schöne Stadt
truely
seien Sie nicht mit mir verärgert

 



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