Poetry       Prose       Letters

Georg Trakl


Spiritual Song

A fluttering flowerbed
Paints symbols, rare embroideries.
God's blue breath blows
Inside the garden hall,
Cheerfully inside.
A cross towers in wild vines.

Hear the villagers rejoicing,
The gardener mows by the wall,
Quietly an organ goes,
Mixes sound and golden light,
Sound and light.
Love blesses bread and wine.

Girls also come in
And the cock crows to the last.
Placidly a rotten trellis goes
And in rose wreath and rows,
Rose rows,
Mary rests white and fine.

The beggar there on the ancient stone
Seems to be deceased in prayer,
Softly from the hill a shepherd goes
And an angel in the grove,
Nearby in the grove,
Sings the children to sleep.


© Jim Doss & Werner Schmitt



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