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sympathy poem

er kam mich durch die Hand nehmen
voll von den Rissen
ihr schönes Haar
vor tausend leisen Jahren
ich mag es
sie limps mit dem Anhalten des schmerzlichen Schrittes
ich sehe allen menschlichen Esprit
und während wir gingen, wurde das Gras schwach gerührt
gegangen die drei, jene seltenen Schwestern
erneuern Sie den Anblick der Freude
Gott

 



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