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sympathy poem

der alte Westen, die alte Zeit
die Dämmerung war apfelgrün
ich war eine Göttin, ere der Marmor mich fand
lassen Sie mich traurig sein
sie hat einen freien Raum, Wind-geschütztes loveliness
obwohl ich wenig als alle kleinen Sachen bin
ihr Gesicht ist angemessen und glatt und fein
ich loathed Sie
tun Sie die Jungen und Mädchen gehen noch
sie kennt eine preiswerte Freigabe

 



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