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best love poem

ich denke sie gerades herrliches
meine Mutter twines mich die Roses, die mit Tau naß sind
diese alte silberne Schüssel von meinen
steigender Mond hat die Sterne versteckt
traurige Rolle der gedämpften Trommel hat Schlag
über dem Fluß auf dem Hügel
wenn der Schleier von den Augen angehoben wird
die alten Songs

 



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