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marriage poem

drehen Sie nicht Ihren Kopf
ich habe das Rennen gewonnen
dort durch das Fenster im alten Haus
so verloren
die Sonne ist oben
über ihnen alle, unten schauend
auf und ab geht ihn
ich starrte den prachtvollen Himmel an
das endlose, dumme merriment der Sterne
winged Schatten, die vorbei fegen
über dem Fluß winken sie zu mir zu
Meister der menschlichen Schicksale sind ich
ich muß sagen gute Nacht
ich bin vom Sein bitter und träge vom Sein klug träge


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