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teacher poem

von Song und Traum für überhaupt gegangen
herauf von die Wiesen reich mit Mais
auf und ab geht ihn
ich liebe die alten melodious Lagen
wenig Gatter wurde schließlich erreicht
wie das Glätten fällt
wenn ihr Haar wild flaying
alle jene Schätze, die liegen
Bruder, bin ich Feuer

 



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