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death poem

Sie sind schön und verblassen
es gibt eine Stunde des ruhigen Restes
ruhig mit reverance, im Awe
wenn ich zurück zu Masse gehe
sie sagte
tat Sie hören überhaupt
über ihnen alle, unten schauend
vor tausend leisen Jahren
wenn, voll von der warmen und eifrigen Liebe
warum so traurig mein reizendes?
seien Sie, Leben geduldig, wenn Liebe am Gatter ist

 



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