Georg Trakl Poems

The last, pale light went from the day,
The early passions have rustled down,
The holy wine of my joys spilled
Now my heart weeps in the night and listens
...

The fountain sings, the clouds stand

In clear blueness, white, delicate;

Silent people wander thoughtfully

Down there in the evening-blue garden.
...

Come evening, friend, who surrounds my forehead with darkness

Gliding on paths through soft-green sowing.

Also willows beckon solemnly and calmly;

A beloved voice whispers in the branches.
...

In the evening the sky was overcast.

And through the grove full of silence and grief

A dark-golden shower went.

Distant evening bells faded away.
...

You are rumpled, distorted by every pain
And shake with the discord of all melodies,
You burst harp - a poor heart,
From which gloom's sick flowers bloom.
...

The day’s gold is consumed,
The evening’s brown and blue:
The herders’ flutes swell then die
The evening’s blue and brown
...

The colored pictures which life paints,

I see them gloomily only by twilights,

Like frizzy distorted shadows, cloudy and cold,

Hardly born, already defeated by death.
...

These mountains: blackness, silence, and snow.
The red hunter climbs down from the forest;
Oh the mossy gaze of the wild thing.
The peace of the mother: under black firs
...

Sleep and death, the dusky eagles
Around this head swoop all night long;
Eternity’s icy wave
Would swallow the golden image
...

Where one goes in the evening is not the angel's shadow

And beauty! grief and gentler forgetting alternate;

The stranger's hands grope coolness and cypresses

And his soul is taken by an astonished languishing.
...