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retirement poem

die Luft ist von Dämmerung und Frühling voll
wenn der Schleier von den Augen angehoben wird
unter dem Helm des Warriors
wenn der rote Slayer denken, slays er
wie das Glätten fällt
in Ihren Armen war ruhige Freude
tun Sie die Jungen und Mädchen gehen noch
Überschreiten durch die huddled und häßlichen Wände
in Ihrem Flug
die Wiese kroch
ich sterbe
lassen Sie nicht hören
sie konnte ihn im früheren Frühling gekannt haben

 



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