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marriage poem

Töchter der Zeit
unter dem Erntemond
ich denke sie gerades herrliches
sie muß zurück gehen, sagte sie
ich ging auf und ab die Straßen
die auf das Oberseite sagen, daß sie Sie, Masse kennen -- sie sind Lügner
die Sonne ist oben
unter einem ausgebreiteten Kastaniebaum
unsere angenehmen Momente fliegen

 



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