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grandma poem

liebe Frau
Vögel gegen den Aprilwind
liegt hier eine schönste Dame
das Emporheben, als der Wind brannte durch
ich sah die erste Birne
Standplatz hier durch meine Seite
zwischen den musing Sonnenuntergang und die Dunkelheit
wer den Wind nennen wird
ein Vogel sang
Glück
es gibt keine Menge, gleichwohl aufgepaßt und geneigt

 



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