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death poem

seien Sie nicht mit mir verärgert
bewiesen im Schimmer in Ihren Augen
bleiben Sie nicht mehr
das Emporheben, als der Wind brannte durch
den brennenden Gedanken kleiden
auf und ab geht ihn
die Lattentagesdrowses auf dem westlichen durchtränken
gaily durch die Felder tanzten wir

 



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