Klassischer Akkord Poem by GONZALO ROJAS
Klassischer Akkord
Niemand gebiert den Rhythmus, sie werfen ihn nackt und weinend
hin wie das Meer, es wiegen ihn die Sterne, er wird schlank,
um zu schlüpfen durch das kostbare Pochen
des Blutes, er fließt, funkelt
im Marmor der Mädchen, steigt empor
in der Majestät der Tempel, lodert in der Zeiger
Unheilzahl, sagt November
hinter den Gardinen, blinzelt
auf diesem Blatt.
Saturday, May 25, 2019
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5/21/2024 2:08:30 PM # 1.0.0.1119
