Whispered Into Afternoon


Georg Trakl

Sun of autumn, thin and shy

And fruit drops off the trees,

Blue silence fills the peace

Of a tardy afternoon’s sky.

Death knells forged of metal,

And a white beast hits the mire.

Brown lasses uncouth choir

Dies in leaves’ drifting prattle.

Brow of God dreams of hues,

Senses madness’ gentle wings.

Round the hill wield in rings

Black decay and shaded views.

Rest and wine in sunset’s gleam,

Sad guitars drizzle into night,

And to the mellow lamp inside

You turn in as in a dream.


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