Mourning

“The dark eagles, sleep and death,

Rustle all night around my head:

The golden statue of man

Is swallowed by the icy comber

Of eternity. On the frightening reef

The purple remains go to pieces,

And the dark voice mourns

Over the sea.

Sister in my wild despair

Look, a precarious skiff is sinking

Under the stars,

The face of night whose voice is fading.”

Georg Trakl.

Translated by Robert Bly; The Winged Energy of Delight.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: