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friendship poem

Schlaf, grauer Bruder des Todes
er erklärt von den guten alten Zeiten
ich ging auf und ab die Straßen
Sonne und Wind und Schlag von Meer
aller Tag zum Aufpassen der blauen Welle sich zu kräuseln und zu brechen
drehen Sie mich unten durch die Wiese
pharaoh, König von Land Ägyptens
desolate und einsam
wie ich sollen Sie, helfen Sie rechts der Welt, die falsch geht

 



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