The night folds her trembling hands over a weary world. Out of a pale blue rises the shining moon. My thoughts are flying to the stars like lonely swans. (Joseph Goebbels)

The night folds her trembling hands over a weary world. Out of a pale blue rises the shining moon. My thoughts are flying to the stars like lonely swans.

Joseph Goebbels

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blue flying moon night pale shining trembling world hands stars

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