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friend poem

wenn Freiheit von ihrer Gebirgshöhe
meine Seele geht in den gorgeous Sachen plattiert
unten gekommen an der Dämmerung von den windless Hügeln
sehen Sie, daß ich Ihnen mich gebe
Himmel, die sie waren, ashen und nüchtern
gegen die grüne Flamme des Weißdorn-Baums
geheimnisvolle Nacht
ich muß sagen gute Nacht
Tochter, thoukunst kommen zu sterben
so gefallen
lassen Sie mich durch die Straße langsam bewegen
ihr schönes Haar
Töchter der Zeit
aus dem tiefen heraus und die Dunkelheit

 



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