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baby poem

möglicherweise
die Luft ist von Dämmerung und Frühling voll
herauf von die Wiesen reich mit Mais
das endlose, dumme merriment der Sterne
meine sorge, wenn sie hier mit mir ist
meine ganze Liebe für meinen Bonbon
in Ihren Armen war ruhige Freude
wenn ich sehr sicher war
ich brenne keinen Duft
ich hörte den Wind aller Tag

 



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