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father poem

durch das Ufer durch das Meer
ich rüttele mein Haar im Wind des Morgens
sie hat einen freien Raum, Wind-geschütztes loveliness
ich habe das Rennen gewonnen
diese sind
unter dusky Lorbeerblatt
lassen Sie mich durch die Straße langsam bewegen
die kleinen weißen Gebete

 



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