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wedding poem

Schlaf, grauer Bruder des Todes
gestiegen von den Toten
sie sagte
obwohl Lieberepine und Grundscheuern
seien Sie nicht mit mir verärgert
die kleinen weißen Gebete
Sie sagen, daß Sie mich lieben
jenseits schauen
lassen Sie mich durch die Straße langsam bewegen
könnten wir aber zu wissen
vor langer Zeit im jungen Moonlight

 



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