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grandmother poem

Glasbläser der Zeit
nie in meinem ganzem Leben
es gibt Gewinne für alle unsere Verluste
desolate und einsam
gaily durch die Felder tanzten wir
ich liebte eine Frau
schön
ich bete nicht für Frieden
die Luft ist von Dämmerung und Frühling voll
die einzelne zusammengeprgessene angehobene Faust und bereiten vor
erklären Sie mir nicht
Glück

 



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