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african american poetry

ich sah ihn einmal vorher
die alten Songs
wenn ihr Haar wild flaying
vor drei Jahren heute
es gibt eine Stunde des ruhigen Restes
die Luft ist von Dämmerung und Frühling voll
läßt lang das Sommertageslicht glänzen
ich bin in das Ă–dland gekommen, weil meine Seele athirst ist
wenig Park, den ich durch fĂĽhre
ich bin alt und blind
ein Nebel fuhr unten

 



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