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christian poem

ich stand
alle jene Schätze, die liegen
voll von den Rissen
sie kennt eine preiswerte Freigabe
erklären Sie mir nicht
gestiegen von den Toten
in das leise Land
es ist zutreffend, daß Sie sagen, daß die Götter mehr Gebrauch zu Ihnen als Feen sind
in den Wolke-grauen Morgen

 



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