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fall poem

nie in meinem ganzem Leben
die Wiese kroch
wenig Gatter wurde schlieĂźlich erreicht
die Masse hält etwas Erschütterungsgehen
ich schleuderte meine Seele zur Luft wie einem Falkefliegen
sehen Sie, sie zurĂĽckgehen
die Bögen der roten Brücke
die langen resounding Marmorflure
auf und an
dort durch das Fenster im alten Haus

 



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