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grandmother poem

ich wundere mich, wo Sie leben
die Berge sind sie leise Völker
eine Meile nach
durch das Ufer durch das Meer
Sitzen in seinem Schalthebel, der Ihren Tee wartet
schauen Sie heraus nach den Sternen, meine Liebe
in das leise Land
gegen die grüne Flamme des Weißdorn-Baums
warum dann, Muß wir? sieht

 



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