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mother daughter poem

stieg und Bernstein war der Sonnenuntergang auf dem Fluß
ich hatte einen Traum und ich wachte mit ihm auf
schwach-weak-winged Song
als weiße Kerze
die Schiffe liegen in der Bucht
letzter Mitternacht
wir, die standen
lassen Sie uns unsere niedrigeren Neigungen ausdrücken
die Luft ist wie ein Schmetterling
haben wir keine Schande?
hoch-getragenes Rennen
jene schwarzen Augen I einmal so gepriesen
alle jene Schätze, die liegen

 



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