Poetry       Prose       Letters

Georg Trakl


In Hellbrunn

Again following the evening's blue lament
Along the hill, by the spring pond -
As if the shadows of those long dead float over it,
Shadows of church princes, noble women -
Already their flowers are in bloom, earnest violets
In evening ground, the rush of the blue spring's
Crystal wave. So spiritually the oaks turn green
Over the forgotten paths of the dead,
The golden cloud above the pond.


© Jim Doss & Werner Schmitt



Poetry       Prose       Letters

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