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short love poem

ich war eine Göttin, ere der Marmor mich fand
wenn der Wind gegen uns in der Dunkelheit arbeitet
ich bin der Wind, der wavers
ich liebe mein Leben, aber nicht zu gut
mein Sohn ist tot und ich bin gehender Vorhang
es gab eine Zeit in den ehemaligen Jahren
über dem Fluß auf dem Hügel
vor langer Zeit im jungen Moonlight
von Fußboden zu Decke
ich brenne keinen Duft
ihr schönes Haar

 



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