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best love poems

was wir jetzt tut
durch die rude Brücke
von unseren versteckten Plätzen
entlang den Bänken
ich sah die erste Birne
unter dem Helm des Warriors
es war der Herbst des Jahres
Sie sagen, daß Sie mich lieben
jetzt, während meine Lippen leben
unter meinem Fenster in einer Stadtstraße

 



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