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lyric poem

weich jetzt das Licht des Tages
gegen die grüne Flamme des Weißdorn-Baums
und noch gingen sie an
eine Feder des Stahls
als ich war, lief London ein
noch schaukelt ihr Grau Aufsatz über das Meer
bewiesen im Schimmer in Ihren Augen
wie wie die Sterne dieses Weiß ist, namenlose Gesichter

 



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