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death poetry

gestern Abend legte der Vollmond ein Tuch von Weiß
sie sagte
aber alas, gerade Träume
das endlose, dumme merriment der Sterne
jene schwarzen Augen I einmal so gepriesen
ist häufig er nicht so?
Tage endeared zu jedem MUSE
traurige Rolle der gedämpften Trommel hat Schlag
lassen Sie einen Freudenunterhalt Sie
seien Sie, Leben geduldig, wenn Liebe am Gatter ist
in den Wolke-grauen Morgen

 



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