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poem for pastors

traurige Rolle der gedämpften Trommel hat Schlag
er wird gegangen
die Sterne fielen vom Himmel
ich hörte den Wind aller Tag
was ich Ihnen verdanken
lassen Sie uns unsere niedrigeren Neigungen ausdrücken
aus dem Fenster heraus ein Meer der grünen Bäume
meine sorge, wenn sie hier mit mir ist
obwohl ich wenig als alle kleinen Sachen bin

 



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