Georg Trakl

Silently, God opens his golden eyes over the place of skulls. ”

Black frost. The ground is hard, the air tastes bitter. Your stars cluster in evil signs. ”

Earlier lives drift by on silver soles, and the shadows of the damned descend into these sighing waters. ”

When we are thirsty, we drink the white waters of the pool, the sweetness of our mournful childhood. ”