The Elegy
The girlfriend juggling with green flowers
Plays in moony gardens -
O! what glows behind yew hedges!
Golden mouth which stirs my lips,
And they ring out like the stars
Over the brook Kidron.
But the star-nebulas sink over the plain,
Dance wildly and unspeakably.
O! my girlfriend your lips
Pomegranate lips
Ripen on my crystalline mouth of shells.
Heavily the golden silence
Of the plain rests on us.
The blood of the children
Murdered by Herod
Steams to heaven.
poem by Georg Trakl
Added by Poetry Lover
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