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lost love poem

ein Vogel sang
weich als das Bett in der Masse
durch die rude Brücke
da ich der Richtung des Todes geglaubt habe
was ich Ihnen verdanken
zu einigem die fetten Götter
die Schiffe liegen in der Bucht
eine sehr bemerkenswerte Geschichte dieses ist
und breakethbrot nicht mehr
wenn der Wind gegen uns in der Dunkelheit arbeitet
burly, DösenHumblebiene
unter dem Erntemond

 



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