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lost love poem

diese alte silberne Schüssel von meinen
ich war eine Göttin, ere der Marmor mich fand
hören Sie zum klingenden Meer
traurig sprechend
da ich der Richtung des Todes geglaubt habe
nicht von der breiten Welt des Ganzen
über dem Fluß winken sie zu mir zu
plötzlich aus den dunklen und belaubten Weisen heraus

 



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