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short poem

eine Meile nach
meine Mutter unterrichtete mich daß jede Nacht
aus dem tiefen heraus und die Dunkelheit
aus dem funkelnden Meer heraus
ich brenne keinen Duft
meine Seele ist ein dunkles gepflogenes Feld
hängen Sie keinen Wreath
rühren Sie sich
auf und an
ich habe daß eine bestimmte Prinzessin gehört

 



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