Poem by Alfred Behrmann
To Herbert, from Volterra Congedo. A last look and clasping of hands.
Many then are the ways to darkness: on foot,
On horseback, by chariot, carriage, or boat.
With music sometimes, sometimes a quiet cortege,
Lasa, the winged, as guide or the bearded god,
Hammer in hand. Short, we think, were your days,
A lease claimed from anguish. Now you go
Unto other soil, no longer teaching any man
To bear his allotted part.
Comments about Parting by Alfred Behrmann
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.