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death poem

zweifellos erinnere mich ich noch
Kerzen, die seitlich in den Tomatedosen stürzen
in seinem vorsichtigen Zelt
die alten Songs
sie in der Schwärzungsversammlung und bitten
ich hörte den Wind aller Tag
mit Freude und Wunder
wie Adler auf hoher Höhe
wir brechen das Glas dessen sacred Wein
ich singe Ihnen
es war der Herbst des Jahres

 



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