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thanksgiving poetry

es gab eine Zeit in den ehemaligen Jahren
ich sah ihn einmal vorher
lassen Sie uns unsere niedrigeren Neigungen ausdrücken
alle innen und alle ohne mich
warum Sie immer der dort shivering Standplatz tun Sie
schöne, tragical Gesichter
ich muß sagen gute Nacht
sehen Sie, daß ich Ihnen mich gebe
Farbtöne der Nacht fielen schnell
erinnern sich Sie
als ich war, lief London ein
der Geruch von stieg so falsch, die zutreffenden Dornen so

 



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