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free love poem

die Berge sind sie leise Völker
unter den Rauch und Nebel eines Dezembernachmittages
die Qual des Habens zu vieler Energie
meine Mutter twines mich die Roses, die mit Tau naß sind
dieses ist der Song von Jugend
wie er wer Geist in der Flamme des Mittages
um so bald zu diesem zu kommen stellte sich Dunkelheit vor
burly, DösenHumblebiene
da ich der Richtung des Todes geglaubt habe
sind Sie wach?

 



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