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religious poem

ich loathed Sie
ich kann nicht seinem greatness immer glauben
bewiesen im Schimmer in Ihren Augen
wer den Regen liebt
und so geht sie
so gefallen
ich hörte den Wind aller Tag
Sie sind frei
was ich Ihnen verdanken
machen Sie sich nicht Sorgen, daß er rüber sein
lassen Sie mich traurig sein
Tochter, thoukunst kommen zu sterben


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