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short love poem

ich wußte nie, daß die Masse soviel Gold hatte
ich erwarte Sie
es war der Herbst des Jahres
fette schwarze Dollars in einem Wein-Faßraum
eine Feder des Stahls
und während wir gingen, wurde das Gras schwach gerührt
Ruhe als die zweiter Sommer
traurige Rolle der gedämpften Trommel hat Schlag
gaily durch die Felder tanzten wir

 



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