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Glasbläser der Zeit
wenn Nacht entlang den Straßen der Stadt treibt
dieser merkwürdige Begleiter kam auf shuffling Füße
unter dem Erntemond
gegen die grüne Flamme des Weißdorn-Baums
ich hörte den Wind aller Tag
ich weiß, was Sie sagen werden
weich jetzt das Licht des Tages
zu einigem die fetten Götter

 



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