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funny poem

es war der Herbst des Jahres
ein Vogel sang
das Swanbestehen
wenn Freiheit von ihrer Gebirgshöhe
ich rüttele mein Haar im Wind des Morgens
schauen Sie zurück mit longing Augen und wissen Sie, daß ich folge
ich ging auf und ab die Straßen
das traurigste des Jahres
ich bin fevered

 



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