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ich habe sie in der Nacht gehört
wenn die Stunden des Tages numeriert werden
ein Sturm fährt auf den Tide
Material des Mondes
desolate und einsam
zu einigem die fetten Götter
Roses und Gold
lassen Sie nicht hören
eine Meile nach
und mein Name ist truthful
das endlose, dumme merriment der Sterne
in Ihrem Flug
ich mag es

 



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