The Mood of Depression
You dark mouth inside me,
You are strong , shape
Composed of autumn cloud,
And golden evening stillness;
In the shadows thrown
By the broken pine trees
A mountain stream turns dark in the green light;
A little town
That piously dies away into brown pictures.
Now the black horses rear
In the foggy pasture.
I think of soldiers!
Down the hill, where the dying sun lumbers,
The laughing blood plunges,
Speechless
Under the oak trees! Oh the hopeless depression
Of an army; a blazing steel helmet
Fell with a clatter from purpled foreheads.
The autumn night comes down so coolly.
With her white habit glittering like the stars
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poem by Georg Trakl
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Summer Dawn
In the green ether suddenly a star flickers
And in the hospital they smell the morning.
The thrush trills crazily hidden in the bush
And cloister bells go dreamlike and far.
A statue towers in the square, lonely and slender
And in the courtyard red flowerbeds dawn.
The air around wooden balconies shakes with sultriness
And flies quietly reel around the stench.
The silver curtain there before the window hides
Entwined limbs, lips, tender breasts.
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poem by Georg Trakl
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A Spring Evening
Come evening, friend, who surrounds my forehead with darkness
Gliding on paths through soft-green sowing.
Also willows beckon solemnly and calmly;
A beloved voice whispers in the branches.
The tranquil wind floats beautiful things here from somewhere,
Scent of daffodils which silverly touches you.
In the hazel bush the blackbird makes music -
A shepherd's song gives answer from the firs.
How long the small house has disappeared
Where now a birch copse gushes;
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poem by Georg Trakl
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Western Dusk
A faun-cry romps through sparks,
In the parks cascades of light foam,
Metallic vapors around steel arcades
Of the city which rolls around the sun.
A god races shimmering in a harness of tigers
Past women and bright bazaars,
Filled with flowing gold and wares.
And slave people howl now and then.
In the canal a drunken ship rotates
Sluggishly in green solar sheaves.
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poem by Georg Trakl
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Untitled: Figure which has long dwelt in the coolness of sinister stone
Figure which has long dwelt in the coolness of sinister stone
Opens the pale mouth sounding
Round owl's eyes - sounding gold.
Those found the cave of the forest decayed and empty
The shadow of a doe in the rotten branches
At the border of the spring the darkness of his childhood.
Long at the forest border a bird sings your decline
The anxious showers of your brown coat;
The shadow of the owl appears in the rotten branches.
Long at the forest border a bird sings your decline
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poem by Georg Trakl
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In the Spring
In the Spring
Your black footsteps whisper into the snow.
In the shadows of trees
your rosy eyelids flutter out of love.
Forever follow the dark calls of the mariner,
the night and the stars.
And the oars pulse faintly.
Before long the violets bloom
by the crumbling wall.
The temple of the deserted corrodes in their silence.
Translated by Eric Plattner
…………………………………………………………………
Im Frühling
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poem by Georg Trakl
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To Johnanna
Often I hear your steps
Ring through the alley.
In the small brown garden
The blueness of your shadow.
In the dawning bower
I sat in silence with the wine.
A dropp of blood
Sank from your temple
Into the singing glass
Hour of unending gloom.
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poem by Georg Trakl
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Towards Evening, My Heart
Towards Evening, My Heart
The screeching of bats at evening.
Two horses lope in the meadow.
The red maple shivers.
To the wanderer, a small tavern appears in the distance.
It is good to taste young wine and nuts.
It is good: to lurch, drunken, into the dawning woods.
Tolling, through the black tangle, the dolorous bells.
Dew drops on the face.
Translated by Eric Plattner
………………………………………………………………
Zu Abend mein Herz
Am Abend hört man den Schrei der Fledermäuse.
Zwei Rappen springen auf der Wiese.
Der rote Ahorn rauscht.
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poem by Georg Trakl
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Untitled
A carpet, into which the suffering landscape pales
Perhaps the Sea of Galilee, a boat in the gale
Golden things fall out of storm clouds
Insanity, that seizes the gentle human.
The old waters gurgle a blue laughter.
And sometimes a dark pit opens.
The possessed are reflected in cold metals
Drops of blood fall on glowing plates
And a countenance decays in black night.
Flags, which babble in sinister vaults.
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poem by Georg Trakl
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Kaspar Hauser's Song
He truly loved the purple sun, descending from the hills,
The ways through the woods, the singing blackbird
And the joys of green.
Sombre was his dwelling in the shadows of the tree
And his face undefiled.
God, a tender flame, spoke to his heart:
Oh son of man!
Silently his step turned to the city in the evening;
A mysterious complaint fell from his lips:
“I shall become a horseman.”
But bush and beast did follow his ways
To the pale people’s house and garden at dusk,
And his murderer sought after him.
Spring and summer and – oh so beautiful – the fall
Of the righteous. His silent steps
Passed by the dark rooms of the dreamers.
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poem by Georg Trakl
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