My room and this distance,
awake upon the darkening land,
are one. I am a string
stretched across deep
surging resonance.
Things are violin bodies
full of murmuring darkness,
where women's weeping dreams,
where the rancor of whole generations
stirs in its sleep . . .
I should release
my silver vibrations: then
everything below me will live,
and whatever strays into things
will seek the light
that falls without end from my dancing tone
into the old abysses
around which heaven swells
through narrow
imploring
rifts.
He has the gift of words- -he glories in them, he gifts them to us, such magnificence.
Without dancing we can dance in mind when we see the starry things with beautiful mind. Many of us seek light to win in life.
into the old abysses around which heaven swells through narrow imploring rifts.Most deserving The Classic Poem Of The Day! Congratulations with the TCPOTD
Es sind Geigenkörper voller murmelnder Dunkelheit, in denen weibliche Träume weinen, in denen sich der Grauen der ganzen Generationen im Schlaf rührt..
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
As desegno does in painting, idea shows itself the most important ingredient of great poetry. This idea's a good one.