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christian poem

schn
sind Sie wach?
warum die Sachen sind, die keinen Tod haben
und mit dem Summenvogel
aus dem funkelnden Meer heraus
mglicherweise
ein mit Ihnen
ihr schnes Haar
ich wundere manchmal, mich wenn es wirklich zutreffend ist
Tchter der Zeit
ich singe Ihnen
alter Wein zum Trinken
wer den Regen liebt
fllt hier kein Licht

 



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