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Sonne trat unten von seinem goldenen Throne
gerade als meine Finger auf diesen Schlüsseln
winged Schatten, die vorbei fegen
und während wir gingen, wurde das Gras schwach gerührt
Sie sind frei
Glück
Nacht war schwarz und drear
herrlich und schrecklich Ihre Liebe
unter den Bergen wandered ich
weich weinend

 



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