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sister poem

die kleinen weißen Gebete
voll von den Rissen
war sie nicht für diesen einzigartigen Geruch
Sonne trat unten von seinem goldenen Throne
ich schleuderte meine Seele zur Luft wie einem Falkefliegen
in seinem vorsichtigen Zelt
Wille schimmern Sie auf dem Meer?
wie er wer Geist in der Flamme des Mittages
Moonlight tief und zart
mittlere Vergnügen und Paläste, obwohl wir durchstreifen können
ich fülle diese Schale
zu, was eine Frau sie geliebt vergleicht
dieses ist der Song von Jugend

 



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