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birthday poem

entlang den Bänken
ein Sturm fährt auf den Tide
es gibt keine Menge, gleichwohl aufgepaßt und geneigt
warum dann, Muß wir? sieht
seien Sie nicht falsch
Tag ist erfolgt
warum
sie muß zurück gehen, sagte sie
vor langer Zeit im jungen Moonlight
einmal dieser weiche Rasen
ein Fliegenwort von hier und dort

 



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