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teacher poem

ich stand
grünes Nachmittagsserene und hell
blau-schwarze nubian zupfende Orangen
wie ein blanker Mann ich gehen
ich bin der Wind, der wavers
hören Sie zum klingenden Meer
Melancholie, Blau war sie
Tochter, thoukunst kommen zu sterben
mit Freude und Wunder
allein
sie konnte ihn im früheren Frühling gekannt haben
vor langer Zeit im jungen Moonlight

 



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