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wedding poem

ich sah, daß Gott Sie es? bezweifeln
kein Opfer sind ich der schlechten Gedanken
unter dem Helm des Warriors
wer den Wind nennen wird
sehen Sie, daß ich Ihnen mich gebe
drehen Sie nicht Ihren Kopf
ich war eine Göttin, ere der Marmor mich fand
Frau vermißte viel, wie Sie zu mir benennen, Anruf zu mir
wenn der Schleier von den Augen angehoben wird
ich brenne keinen Duft
schön

 



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