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math poem

irgendwo las ich eine merkwürdige, alte, rostige Geschichte
warum dann, Muß wir? sieht
rühren Sie sich
auf und an
ich muß sagen gute Nacht
wenn, voll von der warmen und eifrigen Liebe
drei Tage hörte ich sie, sich Sorgen zu machen, wann ich absolut lege
Ruhe als die zweiter Sommer
Freund, dessen Lächeln gekommen ist zu sein
er erklärt von den guten alten Zeiten

 



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