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grandmother poem

es war der Herbst des Jahres
diese sind
jetzt, während meine Lippen leben
das endlose, dumme merriment der Sterne
es gibt eine Stunde des ruhigen Restes
meine zutreffende Liebe von ihrem Kissen stieg
Hinausschieben, vainly kämpfend
die Schatten der Schiffe
es gibt keine Menge, gleichwohl aufgepaĂźt und geneigt
zum leidenschaftlichen Geliebten
alle werfen die Jahre nieder
dieses Jahr
vor drei Jahren heute

 



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