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funeral poem

ich bot sie aller Abschied
steigender Mond hat die Sterne versteckt
durch die rude Brücke
weich als das Bett in der Masse
ich kann nicht seinem greatness immer glauben
ich wundere mich, wo Sie leben
und während wir gingen, wurde das Gras schwach gerührt
im Hafen neuen Yorks
eine sehr bemerkenswerte Geschichte dieses ist
der Körper kann begrenzen
desolate und einsam


 



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