Schattengarten
Frühling lässt sein blaues Band wieder flattern durch die Lüfte; Süsse, wohlbekannte Düfte streifen ahnungsvoll das Land. Veilchen träumen schon, wollen balde kommen. -Horch, von fern ein leiser Harfenton! Frühling, ja du bist's! Dich hab ich vernommen! Eduard Mörike (1804-1875)
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