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family poem

ich gehe hinunter die Gartenwege
Sturm
es gibt kein Entweichen durch den Fluß
wickeln Sie die Masse im bewölkten Wetter auf
in die Dunkelheit und Frieden meinem abschließenden Betts
auf und ab geht ihn
O angemessen und stately Mädchen, dessen Augen

 



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