Poet

When we are thirsty, we drink the white waters of the pool, the sweetness of our mournful childhood.

When we are thirsty, we drink the white waters of the pool, the sweetness of our mournful childhood.

Earlier lives drift by on silver soles, and the shadows of the damned descend into these sighing waters.

Shuddering under the autumn stars, each year, the head sinks lower and lower.

The blue of my eyes is extinguished in this night, the red gold of my heart.

I drank the silence of God from a spring in the woods.

Silently, God opens his golden eyes over the place of skulls.

The near stillness recalls what is forgotten, extinct angels.

For whoever is lonely there is a tavern.

The near stillness recalls what is forgotten, extinct angels.

For whoever is lonely there is a tavern.

I drank the silence of God from a spring in the woods.

Silently, God opens his golden eyes over the place of skulls.

The guilt of newborns is immense.

The guilt of newborns is immense.

Shuddering under the autumn stars, each year, the head sinks lower and lower.

Earlier lives drift by on silver soles, and the shadows of the damned descend into these sighing waters.

The blue of my eyes is extinguished in this night, the red gold of my heart.

When we are thirsty, we drink the white waters of the pool, the sweetness of our mournful childhood.

Black frost. The ground is hard, the air tastes bitter. Your stars cluster in evil signs.