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suicide poem

Frau vermißte viel, wie Sie zu mir benennen, Anruf zu mir
was spiteful Wahrscheinlichkeit unawares stiehlt
unter dusky Lorbeerblatt
Schlaf süß in Ihren humble Gräbern
mein Sohn ist tot und ich bin gehender Vorhang
wenn es
ein Vogel sang
der Duft kam
ihr schönes Haar
es gibt kein Entweichen durch den Fluß

 



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