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urdu poetry

während ich das Hören stand, diskret dumb
das Licht zurückgenommen
in das leise Land
vor tausend leisen Jahren
gegen die grüne Flamme des Weißdorn-Baums
das endlose, dumme merriment der Sterne
gloom
winged Schatten, die vorbei fegen
aus mir heraus unwürdig und unbekannt
lassen Sie mich traurig sein
gebildet vom loveliness alleine
er erklärt von den guten alten Zeiten
seien Sie in mir als die ewigen Stimmungen

 



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