Georg Trakl
I drank the silence of God from a spring in the woods.Collection: Nature
The near stillness recalls what is forgotten, extinct angels.
For whoever is lonely there is a tavern.
The blue of my eyes is extinguished in this night, the red gold of my heart.
Shuddering under the autumn stars, each year, the head sinks lower and lower.
The guilt of newborns is immense.
Earlier lives drift by on silver soles, and the shadows of the damned descend into these sighing waters.
Silently, God opens his golden eyes over the place of skulls.
Black frost. The ground is hard, the air tastes bitter. Your stars cluster in evil signs.
When we are thirsty, we drink the white waters of the pool, the sweetness of our mournful childhood.
I do not have easy days at home now and I drift between fear and helplessness in sunny rooms where it is unspeakably cold. Strange shudders of transformation, bodily experienced to the point of vulnerability, visions of mysteries until the certainty of having died, ecstasies to the point of stony petrifaction, and a continuation of dreaming sad dreams.Collection: Dream