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best love poems

das Emporheben, als der Wind brannte durch
gegen die grüne Flamme des Weißdorn-Baums
in einem alten Raum beleuchtete weich
Sitzen in seinem Schalthebel, der Ihren Tee wartet
lassen Sie uns unsere niedrigeren Neigungen ausdrücken
wenn ich sterbe, denken Sie nur dieses an mich
ist häufig er nicht so?
jenseits schauen

 



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