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love poetry

ich brenne keinen Duft
durch die ausgedehnten schmerzende Brust der Masse
wie wild, wie Hexe-wie sonderbares, das das Leben sein sollte
gestern Abend legte der Vollmond ein Tuch von Wei
Glasblser der Zeit
an der Dmmerung sagte er
als ich am Sonnenuntergang zurckkam
zweifellos erinnere mich ich noch
die Berge sind sie leise Vlker
mit Freude und Wunder
im Bereich
Schlaf s in Ihren humble Grbern
vor dem ernsten Bronzeheiligen

 



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