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type of poetry

unten gekommen an der Dämmerung von den windless Hügeln
Nacht ist dunkel und die Winterwinde
vor tausend leisen Jahren
wie wild, wie Hexe-wie sonderbares, das das Leben sein sollte
ich sah mit geöffneten Augen
behold ich, in meinem chiffon, in Gaze und in Filterstreifen
für Wahrheit für Liebe
in den Hallen des Schlafes wandered Sie vorbei
stieg und Bernstein war der Sonnenuntergang auf dem Fluß

 



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