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sad love poem

wir brechen das Glas dessen sacred Wein
babylon -- wo ich gehe zu träumen
ich gehe hinunter die Gartenwege
ich bin in das Ödland gekommen, weil meine Seele athirst ist
der Himmel
und während wir gingen, wurde das Gras schwach gerührt
wenig Gatter wurde schließlich erreicht

 



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