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dunkel-eyed
alle werfen die Jahre nieder
durch die ausgedehnten schmerzende Brust der Masse
vor tausend leisen Jahren
schöne, tragical Gesichter
ein süß ernster Gedanke
der Geruch von stieg so falsch, die zutreffenden Dornen so
häufig denke ich an die schöne Stadt
sie war eine Schönheit an den Tagen
nicht von der breiten Welt des Ganzen
den brennenden Gedanken kleiden
diese alte silberne Schüssel von meinen
unsere angenehmen Momente fliegen


 



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