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mom poem

meine Mutter twines mich die Roses, die mit Tau naß sind
ich bin vom Sein bitter und träge vom Sein klug träge
Wille schimmern Sie auf dem Meer?
mit den meek, braunen Augen
seien Sie nicht falsch
tun Sie die Jungen und Mädchen gehen noch
die Bögen der roten Brücke
gestern Abend legte der Vollmond ein Tuch von Weiß
gloom

 



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