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black poetry

ich wundere mich, wo Sie leben
herrlich und schrecklich Ihre Liebe
es gibt ein, das dieses i einmal so sehr liebte
blau-schwarze nubian zupfende Orangen
O angemessen und stately Mädchen, dessen Augen
ein Himmel, der nie Sonne, Mond oder Sterne gekannt hat
ich bin vom Sein bitter und träge vom Sein klug träge
von der Sonne noch Sterne
es gibt eine Stadt, builded durch keine Hand
Ruhe als die zweiter Sommer
drehen Sie mich unten durch die Wiese

 



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