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son poem

ruhig mit reverance, im Awe
ich sagte
und so geht sie
ich bin der Wind, der wavers
sie fragen mich, wo ich gewesen bin
wenn ich zurĂĽck zu Masse gehe
die Berge sind sie leise Völker
und wie Sie Traum der Sitzung konnten
ich sah ihn einmal vorher
lassen Sie uns unsere niedrigeren Neigungen ausdrĂĽcken
rückwärts drehen Sie sich rückwärts
mit den meek, braunen Augen
ich liege am Tabellenberg

 



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