Poetry       Prose       Letters

Georg Trakl


In the East

The people's dark rage resembles
The wild organs of the winter storm,
The purple surge of battle,
Stars stripped of leaves.

With broken brows, silver arms
The night beckons dying soldiers.
In the shadows of the autumn ash tree,
The ghosts of the slain sigh.

Thorny wilderness girds the city.
The moon chases terrified women
Away from bleeding stairs.
Wild wolves broke through the gate.


© Jim Doss & Werner Schmitt



Poetry       Prose       Letters

Website Copyright © 2008 by Loch Raven Review.

Copyright Notice and Terms of Use: This website contains copyrighted materials, including, but not limited to, text, photographs, and graphics. You may not use, copy, publish, upload, download, post to a bulletin board. or otherwise transmit, distribute, or modify any contents of this website in any way, except that you may download one copy of such contents on any single computer for your own personal non-commercial use, provided you do not alter or remove any copyright, poet, author, or artist attribution, or any other proprietary notices.