Evening Walk

I go into the evening,
The wind jogs along and sings:
You are bewitched by every light,
O feel, what struggles with you!

A dead woman's voice that I loved
Speaks: poor is the fools' heart!
Forget, forget what clouds the soul!
The becoming shall be your pain!

Georg Trakl The copyright of the poems published here are belong to their poets. Internetpoem.com is a non-profit poetry portal. All information in here has been published only for educational and informational purposes.