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famous poetry

there is a country full of wine
so fallen
very well, you liberals
rocked in the cradle of the deep
a mist was driving down
i went up and down the streets
the old songs
is there anybody there
from floor to ceiling
in your arms was still delight
death's nobility again
the rain was over, and the brilliant air
have you not heard
love me at last, or if you will not

 



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