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The following is the second section of 'The Young Maid,' which is dedicated to Ludwig von Ficker, his publisher and most stalwart advocate.
Silence she creates in the room
And long the yard is abandoned.
In the elderberry before the room
Sad piping of a blackbird's tune.
Silver her reflection in the mirror glass
Alien to her in the twilight glow
And wanly fades in the mirror glass
And her dread before its purity.
Dreamily a farmhand sings in darkness
And she stares, shaken by pain.
Red trickles through the darkness.
Suddenly the south wind rattles at the gate.
(trans. by Will Stone)
The moon comes up.
The moon goes down.
This is to inform you
that I didn't die young.
Age swept past me
but I caught up.
Spring has begun here and each day
brings new birds up from Mexico.
Yesterday I got a call from the outside
world but I said no in thunder.
I was a dog on a short chain
and now there's no chain.
Here I am at the gateless gate again hoping
to see father, mother, sister, brother.
Where did they come from? Where did they go?
I keep climbing this tree as old as the world
and have lost my voice up here in the thin air.
╔═╦╦╦╦═══╦╦══════╦╦╦╦═╦════════════╗ ║╔╣╠╣╚╦═╦╣╠╦══╗╔═╣║║║╩╬═╦═╗╔═╦═╦╦╦╗║ ║╚╗╔╣║╠╝╠╗╔╬╗╚╣╠╝║║║║╦╣║║╠╝║║║║║║║║║ ║ ╚═╩╩╩═╝╚═╩══╝╚═╩╩╝╚╝╚═╩╝ ╚╩╩═╩══╝║ ╚══════════════════════════════════╝
Thank you.
These are beautiful, especially the second and third!
Also, given your post title(s), I take it that you study astrology?