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suicide poem

jetzt für einen lebhaften und freundlichen Kampf
gegangen vor uns
ich hörte den Wind aller Tag
Tag ist erfolgt
gaily durch die Felder tanzten wir
häufig denke ich an die schöne Stadt
machen Sie sich nicht um das unsichtbare Sorgen
fette schwarze Dollars in einem Wein-Faßraum
ein Himmel, der nie Sonne, Mond oder Sterne gekannt hat

 



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