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sad death poem

eins nach dem anderen wie verläßt von einem Baum
nun da ich zu Ihnen abgekühlt bin
unter dem Helm des Warriors
weich jetzt das Licht des Tages
lieben Sie mich schließlich oder, wenn Sie nicht werden
ein Leben auf der Ozeanwelle
eine Feder des Stahls
ich erwarte Sie
Sonne trat unten von seinem goldenen Throne
machen Sie sich nicht Sorgen, daß er rüber sein

 



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