Tuesday, March 9, 2010

De Profundis

It is a stubble field, where a black rain is falling.
It is a brown tree, that stands alone.
It is a hissing wind, that encircles empty houses.
How melancholy the evening is.
A while later,
The soft orphan garners the sparse ears of corn.
Her eyes graze, round and golden, in the twilight
And her womb awaits the heavenly bridegroom.
On the way home
The shepherd found the sweet body
Decayed in a bush of thorns.
I am a shadow far from darkening villages.
I drank the silence of God
Out of the stream in the trees.
Cold metal walks on my forehead.
Spiders search for my heart.
It is a light that goes out in my mouth.
At night, I found myself on a pasture,
Covered with rubbish and the dust of stars.
In a hazel thicket
Angels of crystal rang out once more.

-Georg Trakl


  1. Wow. Can't believe you posted my favorite Trakl poem. I didn't think anybody read him that much anymore. Thanks.

  2. Yes! I'm so glad my pally loved them--

  3. You are so welcome.

    And yes, I loved them. This poem is incredible. And so strong. Thank you endlessly!