Leon Gellert Poems

The world rolls wet with blood,
and the skinny hand of Death
gropes at the beating heart.
...

The night has come,, I feel the desert dew,
I lie in Afric's sands
And breath the night, for night like these are few
In other lands;
...

Waft on, thou upward breeze
From the warm south!
And on her wayward mouth
Imprint my far farewells
...

A red-roofed house is shining to the skies;
A house red-roofed and brilliant in the wind:
A house of colour filled with wandering eyes;
...

A moon upon a moonlit sea
To me thou art;
And every shining part
Of heaven belong to thee;
...

The Gecko lying on his stone
Is always very much alone,
Nor is the reason hard to trace
By those who've seen its form and face
...

Some scarlet poppies lay upon our right.
He watched them through his periscope all day.
He watched then all the day; but in the night
...

When my poor body died,-Alas!
I watched it topple down a hill
And sink beside a tuft of grass.
I laughed like mad,
...

When Christmas comes the Christmas heat'll
bring once more the Christmas Beetle
The first inflammatory breeze'll
set him buzzing like a diesel.
...

The stars, the fields, will know him never-
more;
his friends, his trees, the restless swerving sea.
...