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es gibt keine Menge, gleichwohl aufgepaßt und geneigt
ich bilde meinen Abschirmrahmen, aber niemand weiß
Sonne trat unten von seinem goldenen Throne
stern kalter Mann
es gibt eine Stunde des ruhigen Restes
als ich am Sonnenuntergang zurückkam
unten gekommen an der Dämmerung von den windless Hügeln
ein Schimmer des Goldes in gloom und Grau
Glasbläser der Zeit
Gott
Tag ist erfolgt
ich hörte den Wind aller Tag

 



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