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memorial poem

er war ein hohes junges oysterman
die Wiese kroch
durch die ausgedehnten schmerzende Brust der Masse
ich habe die stolzesten Sterne gesehen
erinnern sich Sie
Sie sagen, daß Sie mich lieben
ein Sturm fährt auf den Tide
nie in meinem ganzem Leben
ich sah die Wolken unter den Hügeln
obwohl Lieberepine und Grundscheuern

 



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