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narrative poetry

fällt hier kein Licht
das endlose, dumme merriment der Sterne
ich habe die Welt geworfen
diese sind
es gibt drei Möglichkeiten, in denen Männer nehmen
die alten Songs
aber alas, gerade Träume
ich bin vom Sein bitter und träge vom Sein klug träge
ich gehe hinunter die Gartenwege
glänzt das letzte Alter, das folgende mit Hoffnung wird gesehen
der alte Westen, die alte Zeit
glooms der Lebeneichen
Sonne trat unten von seinem goldenen Throne

 



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