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marriage poem

grünes Nachmittagsserene und hell
unter den Rauch und Nebel eines Dezembernachmittages
warum die Sachen sind, die keinen Tod haben
Glasbläser der Zeit
es gibt eine Stadt, builded durch keine Hand
Hinausschieben, vainly kämpfend
singen Sie wieder dem Song Sie gesungen
schwach-weak-winged Song
der Regen sein rüber und die leuchtende Luft

 



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