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memorial poem

ich liebe, eine Weile weg zu stehlen
als ich war, lief London ein
sie konnte ihn im früheren Frühling gekannt haben
gestiegen von den Toten
ich bin in das Ödland gekommen, weil meine Seele athirst ist
Nacht ist dunkel und die Winterwinde
ich muß sagen gute Nacht
weich jetzt das Licht des Tages

 



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