Georg Trakl

(3 February 1887 - 3 November 1914 / Salzburg)

December Sonnet - Poem by Georg Trakl

At evening jugglers travel through the forest

On quaint wagons, small steeds.

A golden stash seems locked in clouds.

In the dark plain villages are painted.

The red wind billows linen black and cold.

A dog rots, a shrub smokes blood-doused.

The reed is flown through by yellow horror

And placidly a funeral procession pilgrimages to the cemetery.

The old man's hut dwindles nearby in the gray,

In the pond a brilliance of old treasures glistens;

The farmers sit down in the tavern for wine.

A boy glides shyly to a woman.

A monk fades in the darkness soft and dark.

A bleak tree is a sleeper's sexton.

Comments about December Sonnet by Georg Trakl

  • Brian Jani (5/16/2014 6:19:00 PM)

    George Amazing showcase of poetry, keep it up (Report) Reply

    Fabrizio Frosini (8/5/2015 12:34:00 PM)

    such ludicrous words should be avoided

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Poem Submitted: Friday, April 6, 2012

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