Georg Trakl Poems
Luminous Hour Far on the hill flute-sounds.
Fauns lurk in the marshes,
Helian In the spiritâ??s solitary hours
It is lovely to walk in the sun
Along the yellow walls of summer.
Winter Evening When snow falls against the window,
Long sounds the evening bell...
For so many has the table
Poem A pious song came to me here:
You simple heart, you holy blood,
The Horror I saw myself go through abandoned rooms.
- The stars danced crazily on blue ground,
Evening Song Evening Song
At evening, when we walk on dark trails,
Quaint Spring Probably around the deep midday,
I lay on an old stone,
The Saint When in the hell of self-created sufferings
Cruelly indecent pictures plague him -
Towards Evening, My Heart Towards Evening, My Heart
The screeching of bats at evening.
Age An animal face in the brown green
Glows shyly to me, the bushes smolder.
The Heart The wild heart grew white in the forest;
Of death, as when the gold
With The Young Wine Sun sets purple,
Swallow has already flown far off.
Face to face with the fire-abyss,
At The Moor At the Moor
Wanderer in the blackened wind. Dry reeds whisper
Melusine At my windows the night weeps -
The night is mute, the wind probably weeps, The wind, like a lost child -
Song Of The Western Countries Oh the nighttime beating of the soulâ??s wings:
Herders of sheep once, we walked along the forests
that were growing dark,
Hour Of Grief Blackish the step follows the gleaming moon
In the autumnal garden,
Decay A wind is blowing! The green lights
Sing extinguished - large and satiated
The Evening With the ghostly shapes of dead heroes
Moon, you ï¬ll The growing silence of the forest,
Remnant O spiritual reunion
In old autumn.
Sleep Not your dark poisons again,
White sleep! This fantastically strange garden
In The Evening A blue brook, path and evening along decayed huts.
Behind dark shrubbery children play with blue and red balls;
Silence Over the forests the moon
Gleams pale, makes us dream,
Lament Sleep and death, the dusky eagles
Around this head swoop all night long;
Eternityâ??s icy wave
The Dead Church On dark benches they sit packed
And lift extinguished looks
The house is empty. Fall in the room.
In Red Foliage Full Of Guitars In Red Foliage Full of Guitars
In red foliage full of guitars
Untitled: The Blue Night The blue night has softly risen on our foreheads.
Quietly our putrid hands touch
Rondeau Gone and passed is the gold of day,
And the eveningâ??s brown and blue:
Silenced the shepherdâ??s tender flute
Colorful Autumn The fountain sings, the clouds stand
Encounter The stranger on the way - we look at each other
Grodek At evening the autumn woodlands ring
With deadly weapons. Over the golden plainsAnd lakes of blue, the sun
Always Darker The wind, which moves purple treetops,
On The Death Of An Old Woman Often I listen full of horror at the door
Kaspar Hauser's Song He truly loved the purple sun, descending from the hills,
The ways through the woods, the singing blackbirdAnd the joys of green.
My Heart At Evening Toward evening you hear the cry of the bats.
Two b l a c k h o r ses bound in the pasture,The red maple rustles,
Summer Dawn In the green ether suddenly a star flickers
In Venice In Venice
On The Edge Of An Old Well Dark interpretation of the water: broken forehead in the mouth of the night,
Accord Very bright tones in the thin winds,
Daydreaming Soft life grows in the stillness
Untitled: O The Dwelling O the dwelling in the stillness of the dusking garden,
On The Edge Of An Old Water Dark interpretation of the water: stars in the mouth of the night,
The Rats The Rats
Fairy Tale Rockets drizzle in the yellow sunshine;
The Ravens The Ravens
Psalm It is a light, that the wind has extinguished.
It is a pub on the heath, that a drunk departs in the afternoon.It is a vineyard, charred and black with holes full of spiders.
Confiteor The colored pictures which life paints,
To The Silenced Oh, the great city's madness when at nightfall
The crippled trees gape by the blackened wall,The spirit of evil peers from a silver mask;
On The Marshy Pastures A man who walks in the black wind; the dry reeds
rustle quietlyThrough the silence of the marshy pastures. In
Total 136 poems written by Georg Trakl
Poem of the day
All The Hills And Vales Along by Charles Hamilton Sorley
All the hills and vales along
Earth is bursting into song,
And the singers are the chaps
Who are going to die perhaps.
O sing, marching men,
Till the valleys ring again.
Give your gladness to earth's keeping,
So be glad, when you are sleeping.
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