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grandma poem

wo ich sollen Sie, finden Sie Sie
der alte Westen, die alte Zeit
das kleine mitfühlende, getragen, Lachengesichter
sehen Sie, von dieser Fälschung von ihm
stieg und Bernstein war der Sonnenuntergang auf dem Fluß
ich sah die archangels in meinem Apfel-Baum gestern Abend
wenn Sie heute abend kommen

 



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