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sad death poem

ich weiß nicht wo
Tochter, thoukunst kommen zu sterben
lassen Sie uns Pity die, denen besser seien Sie weg von, als wir sind
ich bin in das Ödland gekommen, weil meine Seele athirst ist
seit, wenn Sie meine Seite heute bereitstanden
Ruhe als die zweiter Sommer
ich hörte den Wind aller Tag
ich verachte meine Freunde mehr als Sie
ich sah, daß Gott Sie es? bezweifeln

 



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