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ich verachte meine Freunde mehr als Sie
mit Freude und Wunder
ich bin alt und blind
seien Sie nicht falsch
winged Schatten, die vorbei fegen
die hypocritic Tage
vor tausend leisen Jahren
lassen Sie uns unsere niedrigeren Neigungen ausdrücken
geben Sie mich
das Swanbestehen
sie konnte ihn im früheren Frühling gekannt haben
wenn Freiheit von ihrer Gebirgshöhe
weich weinend

 



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