Ballad (1) Poem by Georg Trakl

A heart laments: you do not find her,

Her native country is probably far from here,

And her face is strange!

The night weeps by a door!

In the marble hall light upon light burns,

O stuffy, o stuffy! Somebody dies here!

A whisper somewhere: o do you not come?

The night weeps by a door!

A sobbing still: o that he would see the light!

Then it became dark there and here -

A sobbing: brother, o do you not pray?

The night weeps by a door.