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african american poetry

burly, DösenHumblebiene
gestiegen von den Toten
meine Seele ist ein dunkles gepflogenes Feld
verbessern Sie als Granit
in ihren zackigen regimentals
ich bin alt und blind
so gefallen
die Schwärzung
läßt lang das Sommertageslicht glänzen
ich schleuderte meine Seele zur Luft wie einem Falkefliegen

 



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