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teacher poem

die Sterne fielen vom Himmel
von Fußboden zu Decke
wir brechen das Glas dessen sacred Wein
unsere angenehmen Momente fliegen
Sie sind frei
diese alte silberne Schüssel von meinen
ich wundere manchmal, mich wenn es wirklich zutreffend ist
wir legen

 



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