Zywa
Tiger gazelle
The free field, the blowing
of my hair, the waving
and flowing of the grass, only
obeying myself
No water surface, nothing
does shine but your eyes
to make me feel beautiful –
I despise seducing
in see-through clothes
I spit on being beautiful
to be counted
I disgust being beautiful
and therefore not be counted
I too walk the world!
I too do a lot of work there!
I too oversee what happens
I too know the people
and I talk wisely with you
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