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elements of poetry

ich rüttele mein Haar im Wind des Morgens
fette schwarze Dollars in einem Wein-Faßraum
unten gekommen an der Dämmerung von den windless Hügeln
schauen Sie zurück mit longing Augen und wissen Sie, daß ich folge
sie sprengte fierce Wein
sie muß zurück gehen, sagte sie

 



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