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family poem

wie er wer Geist in der Flamme des Mittages
schreckliche Wahrheiten diese sind
wir, die standen
meine zutreffende Liebe von ihrem Kissen stieg
seien Sie, Leben geduldig, wenn Liebe am Gatter ist
O angemessen und stately Mädchen, dessen Augen
in den mournful Zahlen
Glasbläser der Zeit
es gibt eine Stadt, builded durch keine Hand
Sitzen in seinem Schalthebel, der Ihren Tee wartet
die Luft ist von Dämmerung und Frühling voll

 



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