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autumn poetry

gestiegen von den Toten
allein
Sie sind frei
was spiteful Wahrscheinlichkeit unawares stiehlt
sie konnte ihn im früheren Frühling gekannt haben
da ich der Richtung des Todes geglaubt habe
winged Schatten, die vorbei fegen
Sturm
den brennenden Gedanken kleiden
ich bin in das Ödland gekommen, weil meine Seele athirst ist

 



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