De profundis
It is a
stubble-field where black rain falls.
It is a
dark-brown tree that stands alone.
It is a
soughing wind that swirls round empty huts –
How dismal
this evening.
Passing the
hamlet
The gentle
orphan girl still gathers scanty ears of corn.
Round and
golden her eyes feast on the gathering dusk,
Her lap
yearning for the heavenly bridegroom.
On their way
home
The
shepherds found the darling body
Rotting in
the briers.
I am a
shadow far from desolate villages.
God’s
silence
I drank from
the springs of the grove.
Cold metal
meets my temples.
Spiders seek
out my heart.
There is a
light that guts in my mouth.
At night I
found myself on a heath,
Stiffening
with dirt and dust from the stars.
In the
thicket of hazels
Crystal
angels once more sounded.
