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mother poem

wenn der rote Slayer denken, slays er
ich sah die Wolken unter den Hügeln
liegt hier eine schönste Dame
Nacht war schwarz und drear
das kleine mitfühlende, getragen, Lachengesichter
Sonne und Wind und Schlag von Meer
unten gekommen an der Dämmerung von den windless Hügeln
es gab eine Zeit in den ehemaligen Jahren
Sie sind mein Begleiter

 



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