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christmas poem

lassen Sie mich durch die StraĂźe langsam bewegen
in den Hallen des Schlafes wandered Sie vorbei
ihr schönes Haar
meine Seele ist ein dunkles gepflogenes Feld
Sonne trat unten von seinem goldenen Throne
behold ich, in meinem chiffon, in Gaze und in Filterstreifen
der alte Westen, die alte Zeit
ich weiĂź nicht wo
Einfachheit
unten gekommen an der Dämmerung von den windless Hügeln

 



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