Karl Kraus
There is a light that the wind has gone out.
There is a tavern in the evening a drunken abandon. A vineyard
burned and black.
with holes filled with spiders.
There is a room that have been bleached with milk.
The madman has died.
There is an island in the South Seas
to receive the sun god. Play the drums. Men carry
war dances.
Women
hips sway among vines and flowers of fire, when the sea
sings. Oh our paradise lost.
nymphs have left the forests of gold. They bury
abroad.
Then begins a fiery rain. Son of Pan
arises under the guise of a road worker,
sleeping at noon on the scorching ground.
There are girls on a patio dresses
of wrenching poverty.
There are rooms full of chords and sonatas.
There are shadows in the mirror blind embrace. The windows
heated hospital convalescents.
A white ship sailed up the channel
loaded with bloody epidemics.
foreign Sister
arises again in the bad dreams of someone.
George Trakl
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