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baby poem

zu einigem die fetten Götter
ihr Gesicht ist angemessen und glatt und fein
eine Feder des Stahls
sie limps mit dem Anhalten des schmerzlichen Schrittes
es gibt keine Menge, gleichwohl aufgepaßt und geneigt
Einfachheit
sie fragen mich, wo ich gewesen bin
ich sah ihn einmal vorher

 



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