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suicide poem

ein Nebel fuhr unten
ein Schimmer des Goldes in gloom und Grau
ich bin der Wind, der wavers
für dann außen
lassen Sie das reizende Wortunsaid
grünes Nachmittagsserene und hell
zu einigem die fetten Götter
in den Wolke-grauen Morgen
es gibt kein Entweichen durch den Fluß
ich hörte den Wind aller Tag
die Sterne fielen vom Himmel
Nacht war schwarz und drear
ich liebe die alten melodious Lagen
wenn ich sterbe, denken Sie nur dieses an mich

 



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