With The Young Wine Poem by Georg Trakl

Sun sets purple,

Swallow has already flown far off.

Under arches in the evening

New wine goes round;

Snow falls behind the mountain.

Summer's last green drifts away,

Hunter comes from the forest.

Under arches in the evening

New wine goes round;

Snow falls behind the mountain.

Bat blows around the forehead,

A stranger comes silently.

Under arches in the evening

New wine goes round;

Snow falls behind the mountain.