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memorial poem

winged Schatten, die vorbei fegen
als weiße Kerze
meine sorge, wenn sie hier mit mir ist
in das leise Land
ich hatte einen Traum und ich wachte mit ihm auf
über ihnen alle, unten schauend
O angemessen und stately Mädchen, dessen Augen
Stadt, die nicht eine Stadt ist
mittlere Vergnügen und Paläste, obwohl wir durchstreifen können
lassen Sie mich durch die Straße langsam bewegen

 



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