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short poem

Sonne und Wind und Schlag von Meer
für diese weißen Arme über meinen Ansatz
einfach sprechend
ich wundere mich, wo Sie leben
in allen Sachen gesprochen nicht von
jetzt, während meine Lippen leben
sie konnte ihn im früheren Frühling gekannt haben
sehr gut Sie Liberale
wenn die Stunden des Tages numeriert werden
als ich war, lief London ein

 



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