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baby poem

holen Sie mir weichen Song
wer den Wind nennen wird
ein Leben auf der Ozeanwelle
häufig denke ich an die schöne Stadt
Tag ist erfolgt
es gab eine Zeit in den ehemaligen Jahren
stieg und Bernstein war der Sonnenuntergang auf dem Fluß
ca. beschwerte sich zum Meister
noch dreizehn Jahre
der Schnee whispers über mich
ihr schönes Haar
und wie Sie Traum der Sitzung konnten

 



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