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sympathy poem

als ich war, lief London ein
gute Frau
vor er war viele und viel einem Jahr
zwei Reihen der Kohlpflanzen
hoch-getragenes Rennen
wie ich innen roofed liege, innen aussortiert
ich kann nicht seinem greatness immer glauben
ich sehe allen menschlichen Esprit
oben auslösen, unten fallend
wenn ihr Haar wild flaying
von Song und Traum fĂĽr ĂĽberhaupt gegangen

 



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