Decay
G
Georg Trakl
0
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A wind is blowing! The green lights
Sing extinguished - large and satiated
The moon fulfils the high hall,
Where no more celebrations sound through.
The ancestral portraits quietly smile
And far-off - their last shadow fell,
The room is sultry with putrefaction,
Arround which ravens mutely move in circles.
A lost sense of past times
Looks from the stony masks,
Pain distorted and empty of existence
Mourning in abandonments.
Sick smells of sunken gardens
Quietly caress the decay -
Like the echo of sobbing words
Quivering over open crypts.
Bu metin şairin özgün dilinde (Almanca) değil, bir çeviridir.
Kamu malı: şairin ölümünün üzerinden 70 yıldan fazla geçti.
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