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grandmother poem

wir waren nicht viele
sie können von der Liebe in einem Häuschen sprechen
ich stand das geöffnete Flügelfenster bereit
im September
die Sterne fielen vom Himmel
Stern-Staub und vaporous Licht
wenn ich zurück zu Masse gehe
Wille schimmern Sie auf dem Meer?
seien Sie nicht falsch
für diese weißen Arme über meinen Ansatz
melancholische Tage sind gekommen
diese Herzen wurden von den menschlichen Freuden und Obacht gesponnen
wölbte die Flut

 



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