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funeral poem

unter dem Helm des Warriors
Stern-Staub und vaporous Licht
Schlaf süß in Ihren humble Gräbern
ich stehe im kalten grauen Wetter
und noch gingen sie an
sie fragen mich, wo ich gewesen bin
es gibt ein, das dieses i einmal so sehr liebte
Meister der menschlichen Schicksale sind ich
ich bin in der Liebe mit hohen far-seeing Plätzen
unsere angenehmen Momente fliegen
ich kann nicht seinem greatness immer glauben
die Wiese kroch


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