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best love poem

durch die rude Brücke
alle jene Schätze, die liegen
auf und ab geht ihn
ich ging auf und ab die Straßen
in allen Sachen gesprochen nicht von
aus dem tiefen heraus und die Dunkelheit
die Wiese kroch
der Regen sein rüber und die leuchtende Luft
das Emporheben, als der Wind brannte durch
babylon -- wo ich gehe zu träumen

 



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