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lyric poem

ich liebe die alten melodious Lagen
möglicherweise ist es gleichgültig, das Sie starben
Töchter der Zeit
es gibt keine Menge, gleichwohl aufgepaßt und geneigt
die Schwärzung stiehlt die Formen aller Königinnen
ich starrte den prachtvollen Himmel an
die Dichter sagen
erklären Sie mir weniger oder erklären Sie mir mehr
wie er wer Geist in der Flamme des Mittages
ich bin eine Frau

 



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