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type of poetry

der alte Westen, die alte Zeit
ihr Gesicht ist angemessen und glatt und fein
Welt, die unter meiner Hand ändert
ich sehe allen menschlichen Esprit
letzter Mitternacht
er würde sogar seinen Witz haben
ich bin in das Ödland gekommen, weil meine Seele athirst ist
diese Herzen wurden von den menschlichen Freuden und Obacht gesponnen

 



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