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wedding poetry

ich gehe hinunter die Gartenwege
gegangen vor uns
in Ihrem Flug
wenig Gatter wurde schlieĂźlich erreicht
liegt hier eine schönste Dame
ich bin der Wind, der wavers
Bruder, bin ich Feuer
fĂĽr diese weiĂźen Arme ĂĽber meinen Ansatz
fällt hier kein Licht
unter dem Erntemond

 



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