Georg Trakl Poems

  • 51.  
    Far on the hill flute-sounds.
    Fauns lurk in the marshes,
  • 52.  
    In the spiritâ??s solitary hours
    It is lovely to walk in the sun Along the yellow walls of summer.
  • 53.  
    When snow falls against the window,
    Long sounds the evening bell... For so many has the table
  • 54.  
    A pious song came to me here:
    You simple heart, you holy blood,
  • 55.  
    I saw myself go through abandoned rooms.
    - The stars danced crazily on blue ground,
  • 56.  
    Evening Song
    At evening, when we walk on dark trails,
  • 57.  
    Probably around the deep midday,
    I lay on an old stone,
  • 58.  
    When in the hell of self-created sufferings
    Cruelly indecent pictures plague him -
  • 59.  
    Towards Evening, My Heart
    The screeching of bats at evening.
  • 60.  
    An animal face in the brown green
    Glows shyly to me, the bushes smolder.
  • 61.  
    The wild heart grew white in the forest;
    Dark anxiety Of death, as when the gold
  • 62.  
    Sun sets purple,
    Swallow has already flown far off.
  • 63.  
    Face to face with the fire-abyss,
  • 64.  
    At the Moor
    Wanderer in the blackened wind. Dry reeds whisper
  • 65.  
    At my windows the night weeps -
    The night is mute, the wind probably weeps, The wind, like a lost child -
  • 66.  
    Oh the nighttime beating of the soulâ??s wings:
    Herders of sheep once, we walked along the forests that were growing dark,
  • 67.  
    Blackish the step follows the gleaming moon
    In the autumnal garden,
  • 68.  
    A wind is blowing! The green lights
    Sing extinguished - large and satiated
  • 69.  
    With the ghostly shapes of dead heroes
    Moon, you fill The growing silence of the forest,
  • 70.  
    O spiritual reunion
    In old autumn.
  • 71.  
    Not your dark poisons again,
    White sleep! This fantastically strange garden
  • 72.  
    A blue brook, path and evening along decayed huts.
    Behind dark shrubbery children play with blue and red balls;
  • 73.  
    Over the forests the moon
    Gleams pale, makes us dream,
  • 74.  
    Sleep and death, the dusky eagles
    Around this head swoop all night long; Eternityâ??s icy wave
  • 75.  
    On dark benches they sit packed
    And lift extinguished looks
  • 76.  
    The house is empty. Fall in the room.
  • 77.  
    In Red Foliage Full of Guitars
    In red foliage full of guitars
  • 78.  
    The blue night has softly risen on our foreheads.
    Quietly our putrid hands touch
  • 79.  
    Gone and passed is the gold of day,
    And the eveningâ??s brown and blue: Silenced the shepherdâ??s tender flute
  • 80.  
    The fountain sings, the clouds stand

  • 81.  
    The stranger on the way - we look at each other

  • 82.  
    At evening the autumn woodlands ring
    With deadly weapons. Over the golden plainsAnd lakes of blue, the sun
  • 83.  
    The wind, which moves purple treetops,

  • 84.  
    Often I listen full of horror at the door

  • 85.  
    He truly loved the purple sun, descending from the hills,
    The ways through the woods, the singing blackbirdAnd the joys of green.
  • 86.  
    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,
  • 87.  
    In the green ether suddenly a star flickers

  • 88.  
    In Venice

  • 89.  
    Dark interpretation of the water: broken forehead in the mouth of the night,

  • 90.  
    Very bright tones in the thin winds,

  • 91.  
    Soft life grows in the stillness

  • 92.  
    O the dwelling in the stillness of the dusking garden,

  • 93.  
    Dark interpretation of the water: stars in the mouth of the night,

  • 94.  
    The Rats

  • 95.  
    Rockets drizzle in the yellow sunshine;

  • 96.  
    The Ravens

  • 97.  
    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.
  • 98.  
    The colored pictures which life paints,

  • 99.  
    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;
  • 100.  
    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

Dusk In June
 by Sara Teasdale

Evening, and all the birds
In a chorus of shimmering sound
Are easing their hearts of joy
For miles around.

The air is blue and sweet,
The few first stars are white,-
Oh let me like the birds

Read complete poem

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