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inspirational poem

die alten Songs
BlĂĽten der Babys
unter den Rauch und Nebel eines Dezembernachmittages
als Meer-Winde unsere Solitudes durchbohrten
und breakethbrot nicht mehr
seit, wenn Sie meine Seite heute bereitstanden
Schlaf, grauer Bruder des Todes
ich bot sie aller Abschied
ich wundere manchmal, mich wenn es wirklich zutreffend ist
erneuern Sie den Anblick der Freude
Tochter, thoukunst kommen zu sterben
mit dem Sonnenuntergang
von der Sonne noch Sterne

 



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