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Sturm
meine zutreffende Liebe von ihrem Kissen stieg
ich brenne keinen Duft
unter einem ausgebreiteten Kastaniebaum
schöne, tragical Gesichter
aus dem Fenster heraus ein Meer der grünen Bäume
Melancholie, Blau war sie
seien Sie nicht falsch
hohe Wände und sehr groß

 



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