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lost love poem

er erklärt von den guten alten Zeiten
Sie sagen, daß Sie mich lieben
als Meer-Winde unsere Solitudes durchbohrten
babylon -- wo ich gehe zu träumen
mit den meek, braunen Augen
alle beruhigen entlang dem potomac
über den Dachspitzen laufen Sie die Schatten der Wolken
Stern-Staub und vaporous Licht

 



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