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father poem

ich bin vom Sein bitter und träge vom Sein klug träge
gegangen vor uns
plötzlich aus den dunklen und belaubten Weisen heraus
vor drei Jahren heute
ich singe Ihnen
wenn es
Stadt, die nicht eine Stadt ist
dieser merkwürdige Begleiter kam auf shuffling Füße
es gibt keine Menge, gleichwohl aufgepaßt und geneigt
aber alas, gerade Träume
für Wahrheit für Liebe

 



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