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son poem

Massentravails
die Luft ist wie ein Schmetterling
ich war eine Göttin, ere der Marmor mich fand
seien Sie, Leben geduldig, wenn Liebe am Gatter ist
unter dem Helm des Warriors
wer der Läufer in den Himmeln ist
denken Sie, mein Junge, wenn ich meine Arme um Sie setze
wie er wer Geist in der Flamme des Mittages

 



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