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mom poem

hören Sie
ein kleiner Pfirsich im Obstgarten wuchs
ich bot sie aller Abschied
wie das Glätten fällt
meine zutreffende Liebe von ihrem Kissen stieg
ein Fliegenwort von hier und dort
steigender Mond hat die Sterne versteckt
ich wußte nie, daß die Masse soviel Gold hatte
meine sorge, wenn sie hier mit mir ist

 



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