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death poem

ich kann nicht seinem greatness immer glauben
es gibt kein Entweichen durch den FluĂź
wölbte die Flut
ich bot sie aller Abschied
im Hafen neuen Yorks
ein Himmel, der nie Sonne, Mond oder Sterne gekannt hat
plötzlich aus den dunklen und belaubten Weisen heraus
voll von den Rissen
erklären Sie mir
Überschreiten durch die huddled und häßlichen Wände

 



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