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anniversary poem

ich brenne keinen Duft
gestern Abend legte der Vollmond ein Tuch von Weiß
drehen Sie mich unten durch die Wiese
der Blitz blitzte und hob an
das endlose, dumme merriment der Sterne
um so bald zu diesem zu kommen stellte sich Dunkelheit vor
dieses ist das Arsenal

 



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