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sad poem

drehen Sie nicht Ihren Kopf
Sie sind mein Begleiter
wie wie die Sterne dieses Weiß ist, namenlose Gesichter
traurig sprechend
umsponnen und gesponnen
es gibt eine Stadt, builded durch keine Hand
ich sah, daß Sie und shivering auf den Steinen hunched
die auf das Oberseite sagen, daß sie Sie, Masse kennen -- sie sind Lügner

 



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