The Wall at Ilmenau
Du auch. But in this dusk
Of vision, by the snare
Mortality confounded, ask
The paced words, Where?
Where comes the storm of mirth
Or bread from stricken skies
On him who writes in earth
Sorrow with rainy eyes?
Night hoods the hills with peace,
Not the blind brow of man.
Die Véglein-I am not as these
And no Olympian,
To seek within the boughs
Of oak or elm a shelter,
Or build in the strict house
Of brain an altar.
Nur warte-what bird sings
That I would wait to hear it,
Lifting with winter and wings
And wind the spirit?
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Structure
21 lines · 5 stanzas