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death poem

sehen Sie, von dieser Fälschung von ihm
vor tausend leisen Jahren
ich schleuderte meine Seele zur Luft wie einem Falkefliegen
wenig Park, den ich durch führe
tat Sie sehen überhaupt ein Krokodil
wie er wer Geist in der Flamme des Mittages
jenseits schauen
durch die rude Brücke

 



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