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friend poem

wir brechen das Glas dessen sacred Wein
ein Himmel, der nie Sonne, Mond oder Sterne gekannt hat
ich liebe die alten melodious Lagen
da ich der Richtung des Todes geglaubt habe
erklären Sie mir weniger oder erklären Sie mir mehr
durch die rude Brücke
aus dem Fenster heraus ein Meer der grünen Bäume
lassen Sie uns unsere niedrigeren Neigungen ausdrücken

 



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