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sad poem

ich wußte nie, daß die Masse soviel Gold hatte
die Bögen der roten Brücke
oben auslösen, unten fallend
ein Nebel fuhr unten
glänzt das letzte Alter, das folgende mit Hoffnung wird gesehen
Melancholie, Blau war sie
ein Fliegenwort von hier und dort
zu, was eine Frau sie geliebt vergleicht
niedrig! ' tis ein Galanacht
Bonbon mit Farn und stieg

 



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