It is a light, that the wind has extinguished
It is a pub on the heath, that a drunk departs in the afternoon
It is a vineyard, charred and black with holes full of spiders
It is a space, that they have white-limed with milk
Oh, the great city's madness when at
The crippled trees gape by the blackened wall,
The spirit of evil peers from a silver mask;
Lights with magnetic scourge drive off the stony night
Like the wild organs of the winter
Is the people gloomy rage,
The purple billow of
Of stars leaf-stripped
Sleep and death, the dusky
Around this head swoop all night long;
Eternity’s icy
Would swallow the golden
Sun of autumn, thin and
And fruit drops off the trees,
Blue silence fills the
Of a tardy afternoon’s sky
In the spirit’s solitary
It is lovely to walk in the
Along the yellow walls of summer
Quietly whisper the steps in the grass; yet always
Gone and passed is the gold of day,
And the evening’s brown and blue:
Silenced the shepherd’s tender
And the evening’s brown and
The black snow runs down from the rooftops;
A red finger dips into your brow;
Blue snow flakes sink into the empty room,
They are a lovers’ dying mirrors
He truly loved the purple sun, descending from the hills,
The ways through the woods, the singing
And the joys of green
Sombre was his dwelling in the shadows of the
There is a stubble field on which a black rain falls
There is a tree which, brown, stands lonely here
There is a hissing wind which haunts deserted huts—-How sad this evening
Past the village
At evening the autumn woodlands
With deadly weapons
Over the golden
And lakes of blue, the
Dreamless sleep - the dusky Eaglesnightlong rush about my head,man's golden image drownedin timeless icy tides
On jagged reefshis purpling body
Darkechoes sound above the seas
Stormy sadness' sister, seeour lonely skiff sunk downby ...