Gone are the golden days

Gone are the golden days of empty colours
The gentle herdsman-pipe did die
The evenings colours of blue and brown
Gone are the golden days


The field glows cold and white
The immense sky is lonesome wide
Jackdaws gyrate over the pond
The hunter leaves the crying wood

Silence lives in black tree-tops
A shine of fire flits the huts
Sometimes speeds a tinkeling sled
Lonely rises the moon of death

The wanderer of the dark wind
In the silence of the moor
The trail of wild birds
Over bloody waters
A sudden insurrection
In a decayed hut
Rotteness with black wings
Flying over crippled trees...


A game bleeds gently at the balk
And ravens splash in bloody ditches
A yellow reed shakes in the air
Frost, smoke a step in empty groves  
Comment: Again inspired by some poems of Georg Trakl: "Vergangen ist das Gold der Tage", "Im Winter", "Im Moor" and others. The Hendersongs paint a musical picture in the way Trakl does paint images and impressions with words.  

 

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Comments

25.05.2013 - xccddadh (iwnpoTPnfsWHixN)
bveuiK <a href="http://rstnjudsppkg.com/">rstnjudsppkg</a>

21.05.2013 - Sndhauj (oNEeGZYn)
Stlealr work there everyone. I'll keep on reading.

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