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sad love poem

Gott
gute Frau
Himmel, die sie waren, ashen und nüchtern
hohe Wände und sehr groß
im September
diese sind
der Regen sein rüber und die leuchtende Luft
oben auslösen, unten fallend
ich wußte nie, daß die Masse soviel Gold hatte
zweifellos erinnere mich ich noch
im Hafen neuen Yorks
innerhalb meiner Hand halte ich
ein süß ernster Gedanke
Tochter, thoukunst kommen zu sterben

 



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