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romantic love poem

nehmen Sie meine Bracelets
liegt hier eine schönste Dame
ein Sturm fährt auf den Tide
Sonne trat unten von seinem goldenen Throne
jenseits schauen
ich liege am Tabellenberg
die langen resounding Marmorflure
durch das Ufer durch das Meer
die auf das Oberseite sagen, daß sie Sie, Masse kennen -- sie sind Lügner
blau-schwarze nubian zupfende Orangen
Himmel, die sie waren, ashen und nüchtern
bleiben Sie nicht mehr
fällt hier kein Licht

 



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