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Buy eBook. Buy Hardcover. Buy Softcover. I drank the silence of God from a spring in the woods. Trakl de profundis expressionism. Trakl Winter Twilight. On the way home The shepherd found the sweet body Decayed in a bush of thorns.
Trakl De Profundis. Im Osten. It is so with all of his small animals, his trees, his human names. Each one contains an interior universe of shapes and sounds that have never been touched or heard before, and before a reader can explore these universes he must do as this courageous and happy poet did: he must learn to open his eyes, to listen, to be silent, and to wait patiently for the inward bodies of things to emerge, for the inward voices to whisper.
I cannot imagine any more difficult tasks than these, either for a poet or for a reader of poetry. To memorize quickly applicable rules is only one more escape into the clutter of the outside world.
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James Wright Trakl. Is this dreamy romanticism, at the fringe of the technically-economically oriented world of modern mass existence? Peter D. Heidegger Martin Heidegger poetry Trakl art philosophy spirituality religion God. Die Raben. Trakl Raben Lyrik Gedicht Literatur. O how silent was the house when Father passed into the darkness. Georg Trakl - Klage II. In the East translation. Georg Trakl nell'ultimo crepuscolo di Luciano Funetta.
Georg Trakl: Gedichte - planet lyrik planetlyrik. Forests, unlike languages, die from the inside out. Trakl poetry. Trakl Gedicht Menschheit.
Luis Roniger, Leonardo Senkman, Saúl Sosnowski, and Mario Sznajder
A thorny desert surrounds the city. Wild wolves have broken through the door. Together at last. But quietly you come at night as I lay waking on a hill, or raging in a spring thunderstorm; and always darker gloom clouds the abandoned head, horrible lightning bolts terrify the nocturnal soul, your hands tear my breathless breast.
José Camilo Crotto
Upon a black cloud You travel drunk with poppyseed The night-dark pond, The starry heavens. On a black cloud you sail, Drunk on poppies, The nocturnal pool, The starry sky. Sophia Chun Week 7 Translation. Der Himmel ist einsam und ungeheuer. Ein Schweigen in schwarzen Wipfeln wohnt.
Bisweilen schnellt sehr fern ein Schlitten Und langsam steigt der graue Mond.
Das Rohr bebt gelb und aufgeschossen. Frost, Rauch, ein Schritt im leeren Hain. In Winter, translation The field shines white and cold. The sky is lonely and immense. Jackdaws circle over the pond And hunters climb down from the wood. A silence in black treetops lives.
Sometimes far away rides a sledge And the grey moon slowly rises. A quarry bleeds gently in the rain And ravens ripple in bloody kennels.
The pipe trembles yellow and gangly. Frost, fume, a step in an empty grove. Georg Trakl: My Heart at Evening poem. Toward evening you hear the cry of the bats. Two black horses bound in the pasture, The red maple rustles, The walker along the road sees ahead the small tavern. Nuts and young wine taste delicious, Delicious: to stagger drunk into the darkening woods.
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Village bells, painful to hear, echo through the black fir branches, Dew forms on the face. Drei Blicke in einen Opal.
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Books—-of the living or the dead—-are the truest ghosts among us, the immaterial made material. Grodek Trakl. Gedicht Trakl. Ed ecco un alito mi fa tremare di sfacimento. Di nuovo ritorna la notte e geme un mortale e soffre un altro con lui. The red hunter climbs down from the forest; Oh the mossy gaze of the wild thing. The peace of the mother: under black firs The sleeping hands open by themselves When the cold moon seems ready to fall.
Each night Blue water washes over the rockbase of the cliff; The fallen angel stares at his reflection with sighs, Something pale wakes up in a suffocating room. The eyes Of the stony old woman shine, two moons. Robert Bly and James Wright. Welsh Books Apps. Browse by Category.
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