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black poetry

der alte Westen, die alte Zeit
ich liebte eine Frau
folglich kann ich nicht
sie hat einen freien Raum, Wind-geschütztes loveliness
die Luft ist von Dämmerung und Frühling voll
von Fußboden zu Decke
ich gehe meine Weise complacently
gegangen vor uns
sie konnte ihn im früheren Frühling gekannt haben
es gibt eine Stunde des ruhigen Restes
das Swanbestehen

 



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