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baby poem

meine Mutter twines mich die Roses, die mit Tau naß sind
sie muß zurück gehen, sagte sie
Freund, dessen Lächeln gekommen ist zu sein
ich sehe allen menschlichen Esprit
mit den meek, braunen Augen
als ich in Ihre Augen schaute
Blüten der Babys
die Luft ist von Dämmerung und Frühling voll
hören Sie den Regen?

 



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