Poetry       Prose       Letters

Georg Trakl


Soul of Life

Decay, which gently darkens the foliage,
Its vast silence dwells in the forest.
Soon a village seems to bend ghostly.
The sister's mouth whispers in black branches.

The lonely will soon slip away,
Perhaps a shepherd on dark paths.
An animal steps softly from the arcade of trees
While the eyelids widen before divinity.

The blue river runs beautifully past.
Clouds appear in the evening;
The soul also in angelic silence.
Transient shapes go under.


© Jim Doss & Werner Schmitt



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