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sister poem

gegangen die drei, jene seltenen Schwestern
unter dem Helm des Warriors
Stadt, die nicht eine Stadt ist
ich war eine Göttin, ere der Marmor mich fand
die Bögen der roten Brücke
ich sah, daĂź Sie und shivering auf den Steinen hunched
in allen Sachen gesprochen nicht von
als ich war, lief London ein

 



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