You are bewitched by every light,
O feel, what struggles with you!
A dead woman’s voice that I loved
Speaks: poor is the fools’ heart!
Forget, forget what clouds the soul!
The becoming shall be your pain!
Similar Posts
Oh, the great city’s madness when at nightfall
The spirit of evil peers from a silver mask;Lights with magnetic scourge drive off the stony night.Oh, the sunken pealing of evening bells.Whore who in her icy shivers sheds a still-born child.With raving whips God’s fury punishes brows possessed.Purple pestilence, hunger that breaks green eyes.Oh, the horrible laughter of gold.But silent in dark caves a…
Rotten stone towers sultrily warmed.
Bees hum chaotically swarmedAnd the flower trellises shake.Slowly a breath stirs thereBy the sun-still walls,Dwindles glimmering, like a deceit –Songs for the dead deeply shiver away.Long it listens after in the green,Lets the bushes shine brighter;Brown swarms of mosquitoes sprayOver old tombstones
The longing flames in their nightly glance
So they drift in an unfortunate fate,That only melancholy may fathom completely.The clouds lead their ways,A migration of birds may sometimes escort them,Until it loses their track in the evening,And the wind sometimes carries an Ave of bellsIn their camp’s star-loneliness,So that their songs swell more longingAnd sob from inherited curse and suffering,That no stars…
The blue night has softly risen on our foreheads.
Sweet bride!Our countenance became pale, moony pearlsMelted in green pond-ground.Petrified ones, we contemplate our stars.O painful! Culprits wander in the gardenThe shadows in wild embrace,So that tree and animal sank about them in immense anger.Soft harmonies, when we ridethrough the still night in crystalline wavesA rosy angel steps from the graves of the lovers.
O the dwelling in the stillness of the dusking garden,
The purple of their broken mouthsMelted in the coolness of the evening.Heart-breaking hour.September ripened the golden pear. Sweetness of incenseAnd the dahlia burns at the old fenceSay! where were we, when we passed by on small black boatIn the evening,The crane passed over. The freezing armsHeld black embraced, and inside blood ran.And around our temples…
Rotten fruits smell stunning.
Swarms of black flies singOn the brown forest glade.In the pool’s deep bluenessThe light of weed-fires blazes.Hear sudden love cries whirringFrom yellow flower walls.Butterflies chase themselves for a long time;Drunkenly my shadow dancesOn sultry meadows of thyme.Brightly ecstacized blackbirds trill.Clouds show stiff breasts,And wreathed by foliage and berriesUnder dark pines you seeA skeleton play the…