Devotion - Poem by Georg Trakl
Not lost from my young years
Is silent devotion to a sound of bells,
To all churches' dusking altars
And their blue domes heaven-wide.
To an organ's tune at evening,
To wide squares fading in darkness,
And to a fountain that splashes, softly and quietly
And sweetly, like unintelligible children's babbling.
I see myself dreaming silently, folding the hands,
And whispering prayers forgotten for a long time,
And early gloom sombering my glance.
Since a woman's picture gleams
Out of confused shapes, wreathed by sinister grief,
And pours into me the chalice of nefarious shudders.
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