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sister poem

ich bin vom Sein bitter und träge vom Sein klug träge
fällt hier kein Licht
sehen Sie, sie zurückgehen
das Emporheben, als der Wind brannte durch
schwach-weak-winged Song
dieses ist das Arsenal
sie sprengte fierce Wein
über dem Fluß winken sie zu mir zu
und noch gingen sie an
ruhig mit reverance, im Awe
ich bin eine Frau
was ich Ihnen verdanken

 



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