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poetry poem

unter dem Erntemond
ich sehe einen Stern heute abend
Sie sind schön und verblassen
die Schatten der Schiffe
es gibt kein Entweichen durch den Fluß
Glasbläser der Zeit
schön
warum so traurig mein reizendes?
hören Sie
herrlich und schrecklich Ihre Liebe
geheimnisvolle Nacht
der Körper kann begrenzen

 



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