I Mol Poem by Jeppe Aakjaer

I Mol

Jeg rev min Haand i Flænger
paa Verdens Tjørnehæk;
det nytter ikke længer
at smøre paa med Blæk.

Det vilder mine Sanser,
det presser paa med Skrig.
Du spørger, naar det standser?
Den Dag jeg ligger Lig!

Jeppe Aakjaer
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
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Poems By Jeppe Aakjaer
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