一座演化中的島嶼

Georg trakl (1887-1914)
tr. Margitt Lehbert


Dark autumn comes full of fruit nad plenty,
The faded gleam of lovely summer days.
A pure blue emerges from the ruined shell;
The flight of birds resounds with old legends.
The wine has been pressed, the mild silence
Filled with the quiet reply to dark questions.


And here and there a cross on a barren hill;
In the red forest a herd is disappearing.
The cloud meanders over the pond's mirror;
The calm gesture of the peasant is at rest.
Very softly evening's blue wing touches
A roof of parched straw, the black earth.


Soon stars will nest in the brows of the tired;
A quiet simplicity enters cool chambers
And angels step soundlessly from the blue
Eyes of lovers who are suffering more gently.
The reed murmurs; a bony horror strikes
When black the dew drips down from bare willows.