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traurige Rolle der gedämpften Trommel hat Schlag
Moonlight tief und zart
gegangen die drei, jene seltenen Schwestern
Farbtöne der Nacht fielen schnell
sie limps mit dem Anhalten des schmerzlichen Schrittes
die Masse hält etwas Erschütterungsgehen
warum die Sachen sind, die keinen Tod haben
Vögel gegen den Aprilwind
die Bögen der roten Brücke
gestern Abend legte der Vollmond ein Tuch von Weiß
hohe Wände und sehr groß

 



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