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ich muß sagen gute Nacht
um Mitternacht
hängen Sie keinen Wreath
der Regen sein rüber und die leuchtende Luft
Blüten der Babys
ich schleuderte meine Seele zur Luft wie einem Falkefliegen
herrlich und schrecklich Ihre Liebe
der Blitz blitzte und hob an
herauf von den Süden am Bruch des Tages
warum so traurig mein reizendes?
Schlaf, grauer Bruder des Todes
drehen Sie mich unten durch die Wiese

 



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  • Visiting Nicaraguan poet-priest awaits trouble on return home - Milwaukee Journal Sentinel
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  • My Financial Plan - OpEdNews
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  • Online only: View list of classes being offered this semester at Ave Maria (The News-Press)
  • True Whoppers - Washington Post
  • Pioneer party: Small towns make July 24 their own - Salt Lake Tribune
  • To Sir with love (The Borneo Post)
  • Jury convicts Eric McLean of reckless homicide - Knoxville News Sentinel
 

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