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marriage poem

Blüten der Babys
zu einigem die fetten Götter
Meister der menschlichen Schicksale sind ich
obwohl ich wenig als alle kleinen Sachen bin
auf und ab geht ihn
und so geht sie
ein Fliegenwort von hier und dort
ihr Gesicht ist angemessen und glatt und fein
schauen Sie heraus nach den Sternen, meine Liebe

 



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