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spanish poem

es gibt Gewinne für alle unsere Verluste
ich bin alt und blind
was es die gesagten Maschinen war
sie kennt eine preiswerte Freigabe
ein Leben auf der Ozeanwelle
unter den Bergen wandered ich
er wird gegangen
meine Seele ist ein dunkles gepflogenes Feld
für dann außen
nicht von der breiten Welt des Ganzen

 



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