Untitled: With Rosy Stages

With rosy stages the stone sinks in the moor Song of gliding and black laughter Figures go in and out of rooms And death grins bony in black boat. Pirate on the canal in the red wine Whose mast and sail often broke in the storm. Drowned ones bump purple against the rock Of the bridges. Steely the call of the guards clangs. But sometimes, the glance listens in the candlelight And follows the shadows on decayed walls And dancers are with sleep-devoured hands. The night, that breaks blackly on your head And dead people who turn over in beds Grasp the marble with broken hands.