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sad poem

lassen Sie uns Pity die, denen besser seien Sie weg von, als wir sind
hören Sie
Nacht war schwarz und drear
noch schaukelt ihr Grau Aufsatz über das Meer
fette schwarze Dollars in einem Wein-Faßraum
gegangen die drei, jene seltenen Schwestern
in Ihren Armen war ruhige Freude

 



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