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funeral poem

der alte Westen, die alte Zeit
lassen Sie uns errichten
nehmen Sie meine Bracelets
ich denke sie gerades herrliches
Gott
süsses splendor
traurige Rolle der gedämpften Trommel hat Schlag
unten gekommen an der Dämmerung von den windless Hügeln
es gab eine Zeit in den ehemaligen Jahren
aller Tag zum Aufpassen der blauen Welle sich zu kräuseln und zu brechen
ich habe daß eine bestimmte Prinzessin gehört

 



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