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love poetry

mein Sohn ist tot und ich bin gehender Vorhang
fĂĽr diese weiĂźen Arme ĂĽber meinen Ansatz
es gibt eine Stunde des ruhigen Restes
ich sehe allen menschlichen Esprit
ich bete nicht fĂĽr Frieden
haben Sie gesehenes Gehen durch das Dorf
es gibt eine Stadt, builded durch keine Hand

 



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  • Nobel Laureate Harold Pinter dies at 78 (The Pantagraph)
  • Carroll professor gets fellowship - Billings Gazette
 

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