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math poem

ich denke sie gerades herrliches
weiĂźe Schaumgummiblume, rote Flammeblume
als Meer-Winde unsere Solitudes durchbohrten
Nacht war schwarz und drear
wir brechen das Glas dessen sacred Wein
jene schwarzen Augen I einmal so gepriesen
ich halte Ihr Herz
ich weiĂź, was Sie sagen werden

 



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