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child poem

mit Lippenblut Rot und Herz des Steins
niedrig! ' tis ein Galanacht
unter den Rauch und Nebel eines Dezembernachmittages
wer den Wind nennen wird
winged Schatten, die vorbei fegen
ich denke sie gerades herrliches
die kleinen weißen Gebete
neben es gab nie einen Ton das Holz aber eins


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