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happy birthday poem

alle jene Schätze, die liegen
fette schwarze Dollars in einem Wein-Faßraum
die Sonne ist oben
babylon -- wo ich gehe zu träumen
umsponnen und gesponnen
wir brechen das Glas dessen sacred Wein
wenn Sie heute abend kommen
vor dem ernsten Bronzeheiligen
aber alas, gerade Träume

 



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