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death poem

gegen die grüne Flamme des Weißdorn-Baums
gestern Abend legte der Vollmond ein Tuch von Weiß
er würde sogar seinen Witz haben
die Lattentagesdrowses auf dem westlichen durchtränken
sind sie traurig, die nicht Liebe kennen
warum so traurig mein reizendes?
ein Vogel sang


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