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Pastel

The fall blows its horn
In agony-from afar-
Birds pass
And secretly hide away
 
It drizzels
Nobody's around
One stays outdoors
The smoke is choking
 
Far away, in the fields
Crows fall, softly

The Ego

Versions: #1
More and more silent and thus alone i am
In my world of loneliness
And veiled 'tis my soul
by such a mistrust feeling
 
From all the words i lie down, dear love of mine
Shown so well to the eye it is
The same indiference
For others and for thee
 

Sonnet

A wet and heavy night, perfect for drowning.
Drab, worn-out street lamps offer light
in the fog. The street reminds me
of a dank and dirty tavern.
 
In the suburbs, night is blacker still.
Shabby houses flood.
Through crumbling walls
I hear a dry and bitter cough.
 
Like Edgar Poe, I go back home ―
like Verlaine, mellowed by alcohol.
A night to have no cares.
 
I stumble through my house
with hulking steps. I fall.
I fall again. I continue to talk.
 

Sic transit...

I
There, where there is no one,
Not even shadows,
there to where
multitudes of years go,
and the din of the day,
and the silence of the night …
Where all things are known …
There, say travelers,
Only outbursts of fire
Denounce themselves
dismally, metallically,
From minute to minute.
There, where there is no one
and no more need
For any words.
 
II
And look, we've been surprised by evening,
Which is nothing by day.
Just like
So many times before.
Tales …
of work,
Leisure,
the banquet in the shadows,
Or a time of happiness.
And look, we've been surprised by evening,
which is nothing by day.
 

Autumn Waltz

At windows, autumn plays a funeral march
In monotone, a waltz of mourning ... - Come,
Let's waltz, my darling, through the drawing-room
To the tune of autumn's mortuary dirge.
 
Listen, as the music clearly sounds
Across the stately, antique, solemn park, -
From sorrow-laden wooden instruments
At windows, autumn plays a funeral march.
 
Now as the waltz sighs, softly whispering,
O let me clasp you to me now ... - And come,
Let's waltz, my darling, shrieking as we turn
To the tune of autumn's mortuary dirge.
 

Gloomy Evening

Barbarically that woman sang
In that deserted cafe, late,
Barbarically, but full of sorrow -
And such an upset all about ...
And in the music's monstrous row
Barbarically that woman sang.
 
Barbarically that woman sang ...
And there we were, in such a gloom -
Through cigarette-smoke, as through clouds,
Pondering non-existent worlds ...
And with a long, satanic boom,
Barbarically that woman sang.
 
Barbarically that woman sang,
And such an upset all about ...
And we never even made it home,
Foreheads on tables, crying out,
While over us, in the deserted room -
Barbarically that woman sang ...
 

Melancholy

What shouting, what groaning in autumn ...
And how wildly the forest hums -
A horn resounds in the hollows,
And a sadder lament begins.
 
- Listen carefully now, my darling,
Don't be alarmed and don't weep -
Listen and hear how the hard earth
Is calling to us, from deep.
 

December

See how December snows ...
Look there by the window, my dear -
Tell them to bring in more embers,
Then we can hear the fire roar.
 
Push the armchair up the stove
And then we'll hear, by the chimney,
The storm, or my days - it's the same -
I must learn their symphony.
 
Tell them also to bring in the tea,
And come closer yourself too, please, -
Read me something about the poles,
Let it snow ... let the snow bury us.
 
How warm it is here in your home,
Which to me is totally sacred, -
See how December snows ...
Don't laugh ... go on reading alaud.
 
It's day and what darkness there is ...
We need a lamp fetched, would you ask -
Look, the snow is as high as the fence,
And the door-handle's caught by the frost.
 
I'm not going home now today ...
In front and behind there's a flood,
See how December snows ...
Don't laugh ... go on reading aloud.
 

Monosyllables of Autumn

Autumn strikes my window with metal leaves,
wind.
Unbearable silence, a thought, an animal:
tired.
 
In my room the silent floor snaps:
crack!
Shadows jump all over the empty, silent
place.
 
I try to write.  In vain.
Scratch.
The lamp shudders.  My years and yours
pass.
 
Should I lie on the bed?  Close my eyes?
Chance.
Hope will slowly fall into emptiness
all.
 
Will times ever be normal?
Bis.
Autumn strikes the window with metal leaves.
Dream.
 
 

Lead

The coffins of lead were lying sound asleep,
And the lead flowers and the funeral clothes -
I stood alone in the vault ... and there was wind ...
And the wreaths of lead creaked.
 
Upturned my lead beloved lay asleep
On the lead flower ... and I began to call -
I stood alone by the corpse ... and it was cold ...
And the wings of lead drooped.
 

Otherwise

The man started talking by himself ...
And everything moved in the passing shadows -
A sky of lead ruled everlastingly,
And the brain was burning like the sun's furnace.
 
Nothing. The solitude seemed ever wider ...
And in its bitter night all songs were silent -
And livid with his thoughts, his forehead bent,
The man started talking by himself ...