Poetry       Prose       Letters

Georg Trakl



Moon, with dead heroic figures
You fill
The silent forests,
Sickle moon -
With the soft embrace
Of lovers,
The shadows of famous ages
All around the moldering rocks;
So bluish it shines
Against the city
Where cold and evil
A declining race dwells
Preparing the dark future
Of white grandchildren.
You moon-engulfed shadows
Sighing in the empty crystal
Of the mountain lake.


© Jim Doss & Werner Schmitt



Poetry       Prose       Letters

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