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sad death poem

auf und ab geht ihn
ich bin vom Sein bitter und träge vom Sein klug träge
lassen Sie nicht hören
pharaoh, König von Land Ägyptens
lassen Sie hören
lassen Sie uns errichten
ich ging auf und ab die Straßen
die alten Songs
sie hörte die Kinder, in der Sonne zu spielen
dieses Jahr
unter dem Erntemond

 



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