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type of poem

meine Mutter twines mich die Roses, die mit Tau naß sind
behold ich, in meinem chiffon, in Gaze und in Filterstreifen
wenn ich sehr sicher war
ich sah mit geöffneten Augen
seien Sie, Leben geduldig, wenn Liebe am Gatter ist
ich denke sie gerades herrliches
allein
gegangen vor uns

 



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