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romantic love poem

in seinem vorsichtigen Zelt
häufig denke ich an die schöne Stadt
es gibt kein Entweichen durch den Fluß
Himmel, die sie waren, ashen und nüchtern
sie limps mit dem Anhalten des schmerzlichen Schrittes
Freund, dessen Lächeln gekommen ist zu sein
achtzig Jahre haben und mehr überschritten
es gibt ein Land voll des Weins


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