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wedding poem

Schlaf, grauer Bruder des Todes
vor drei Jahren heute
das endlose, dumme merriment der Sterne
es war der Herbst des Jahres
tun Sie die Jungen und Mädchen gehen noch
welches ich erwähnen möchte
ich schleuderte meine Seele zur Luft wie einem Falkefliegen
Nacht ist dunkel und die Winterwinde
ein dünner grauer Schatten auf dem Rand des Gedankens
schöne, tragical Gesichter

 



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