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family poem

sie sagte
traurige Rolle der gedämpften Trommel hat Schlag
wer den Regen liebt
es gibt eine Stadt, builded durch keine Hand
es gab drei in der Wiese durch den Bach
ich halte Ihr Herz
gegen die grüne Flamme des Weißdorn-Baums
ich sah die archangels in meinem Apfel-Baum gestern Abend
Nacht ist dunkel und die Winterwinde
ich loathed Sie

 



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