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family poetry

ich hörte den Wind aller Tag
wir brechen das Glas dessen sacred Wein
über den Dachspitzen laufen Sie die Schatten der Wolken
Himmel, die sie waren, ashen und nüchtern
und so geht sie
ein mit Ihnen
ca. beschwerte sich zum Meister
schreckliche Wahrheiten diese sind
jetzt für einen lebhaften und freundlichen Kampf

 



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