Surrender to Night

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Surrender to Night Page 12

by Georg Trakl


  Demons drive through the sickening soul.

  The well freezes in the yard. In darkness plunge

  Decayed stairways and the wind blows

  Through old shafts, which lie buried.

  The palate tastes the frost’s sharp piquancy.

  Ever Darker

  The wind, which stirs crimson treetops,

  Is God’s breath, which ebbs and flows.

  The black village rises before the forest;

  Three shadows are cast over the hill.

  With paucity the valley dusks below

  And all grows silent for the humble.

  In garden and hall an earnestness greets

  That craves to conclude the day.

  Pious and dark an organ sounds.

  Mary in blue vestment there enthroned

  Cradling the infant in her hand.

  The night is long, star-bright.

  December

  At evening jugglers trek through the forest

  On quaint wagons, little horses.

  A hoard of gold seems locked in clouds.

  On the white lowlands villages are painted.

  The wind swings signpost and stave black and cold.

  A raven follows the sullen comrades.

  From the skies a beam falls on bloody gutters

  And softly a funeral cortège drifts to the cemetery.

  Close by the shepherd’s hut fades in the grey,

  In the pond gleams the lustre of old treasures;

  The farmers sat in the tavern for wine.

  A boy glides furtively to a woman.

  You still see the verger in the vestry

  And reddish objects, beautiful and dark.

  (Untitled)

  A carpet, wherein the afflicted landscape pales

  Perhaps the sea of Galilee, a boat in the gale

  From storm clouds things golden fall

  Insanity, that grips the gentle human.

  The ancient waters gurgle a blue laughter.

  And sometimes a dark pit yawns wide.

  The possessed are mirrored in cold metals

  Blood-drops fall on shining platters

  And a countenance decays in black night.

  Flags, which murmur in gloomy vaults.

  Others recollect the flight of birds

  Over the gibbet the ravens’ mystical signs

  In spiky grasses sink coppery serpents

  In incense cushions, a smile lustful and clever.

  Good Friday’s children stand blindly by fences

  In the mirror dark gutters brimful with carrion

  The sighing convalescence of the dying

  And angels who pass through white eyes

  From dusking lids golden redemption.

  Delirium

  Black snow, which runs from the roofs;

  Into your brow a red finger dips

  Into the cold chamber blue ice snow sinks,

  The naked mirrors of lovers.

  The head breaks into heavy pieces and senses

  After shadows in the mirror blue ice snow,

  The cold smile of a dead whore.

  In carnation perfume weeps the evening wind.

  At the Edge of Old Waters

  (version 2)

  Dark reading of the waters: broken brow in mouth of night,

  Sighing in black pillows the boy’s bluish shadow,

  The rustling of the maple, steps in the old park,

  Chamber concerts that on a spiral staircase die out,

  Perhaps a moon, which softly mounts the steps.

  The gentle voices of nuns in the decayed church,

  A blue tabernacle, which slowly opens,

  Stars, which fall upon your bony hands,

  Perhaps a walk through abandoned rooms,

  The flute’s blue tone in the hazel bush—so softly.

  Along Walls

  An old path it goes along

  By wild gardens and lonely walls.

  Thousand-year-old yews tremble

  In the rising falling song of the wind.

  The moths dance, as if death is nigh,

  Sobbing my glance drinks shadows and lights.

  In the distance women’s faces float

  Ghostly painted in the blue.

  A smile quivers in the sunshine,

  While onwards I slowly stride;

  Boundless love provides escort.

  Softly the hard rock goes green.

  (Untitled)

  A paleness, resting in the shadow of decayed stairways—

  That at night one ascends in silver form

  And wanders beneath the cloister.

  In coolness of tree and without pain

  Breathes the perfect

  And has no need of autumn stars—

  Thorns, over which the other falls.

  His sad fall

  The lovers ponder long after.

  (Untitled)

  The stillness of the dead loves the ancient garden

  The madwoman who dwelt in blue rooms,

  At evening the still shape appears at the window

  But she draws the yellow curtain—

  The trickling of glass beads recalled our childhood,

  At night we found a black moon in the forest

  Gentle sonata sounds in a mirror’s blueness

  Long embraces

  Her smile glides over the mouth of the dying.

  (Untitled)

  With rosy steps stone sinks in the moor

  Song of gliding and black laughter

  Figures pass in and out of rooms

  And bony death grins in a black barque.

  Pirate on the canal in red wine

  Whose mast and sail often shattered in the storm.

  The drowned nudge purple against the stone

  Of the bridges. Steely jangles the call of the guards.

  But sometimes the gaze listens in candlelight

  And follows the shadows on mouldered walls

  And dancers with sleep-entwined hands.

  Night, that black breaks on your head

  And the dead, who turn over in beds

  Grasp the marble with broken hands.

  (Untitled)

  The blue night has gently risen on our brows.

  Softly our putrefied hands touch

  Sweet bride!

  Pallid becomes our countenance, moon pearls

  Melted in green pond meadow.

  Stony we behold our stars.

  O Agony! The guilty wander in the garden

  The shadows in wild embrace,

  So that in great fury tree and beast sank over them.

  Gentle harmonies, when in crystal waves

  We travel through the still night

  A rosy angel steps from the graves of lovers.

  (Untitled)

  O the dwelling in stillness of the dusking garden,

  When the eyes of the sister opened round and dark in the brother,

  The crimson of their broken mouths

  Melted in the coolness of evening.

  Heart-wrenching hour.

  September ripened the golden pear. Sweetness of incense

  And by the old fence the dahlia flames

  Say! Where were we, when we went by in a black skiff

  In the evening,

  The crane passed over. The freezing arms

  Held black embraced, and within the blood ran.

  And moist blue around our temples. Poor child.

  Out of knowing eyes a dark race deeply ponders.

  In the Evening

  A blue brook, path and evening by decayed huts.

  Children play with blue and red balls behind dark shrubs;

  Some exchange the brow and hands rot in brown leafage.

  In bony stillness glints the heart of the lonely one,

  A row boat rocks on blackish waters.

  Through the dark copse hair and laughter of brown maids flutters.

  The shades of the old ones cross the flight o
f a small bird;

  On their temples the secret of blue flowers.

  Others sway on black benches in the evening wind.

  Golden sighs softly die out in the bare branches

  Of the chestnut; a sound of summer’s dark cymbals,

  When on the decayed staircase the female stranger appears.

  Judgement

  Huts of childhood are in autumn,

  Decayed hamlet; dark forms,

  Singing mothers on the evening wind;

  At windows Angelus and folded hands.

  Dead birth; on green ground

  Blue flowers’ secret and stillness.

  Crimson mouth parted by madness:

  Dies irae—grave and stillness.

  Groping along green thorns;

  In sleep: blood-spit, hunger and laughter;

  Fire in the village, awakening in the green;

  Dread and swaying on a burbling barque.

  Or once more on a staircase of wood

  The female stranger’s white shadow leans—

  Poor sinner stumbling in the blue

  Left his carrion behind for lilies and rats.

  (Untitled)

  Wind, white voice, which whispers near the sleeper’s temple

  In rotten branches darkness crouches in his crimson hair

  Long evening bell, sunk in the mud of the pond

  And over it the yellow blooms of summer incline.

  Concert of bumblebees and blue flies in wild grass and loneliness,

  Where once Ophelia passed with stirring steps

  Gentle demeanour of madness. Fearfully the green ripples through reeds

  And the water lilies’ yellow leaves, in hot nettles a carcass rots

  Awakening sunflowers childlike flutter about the sleeper.

  September evening, or the dark call of the shepherds,

  Perfume of thyme. Glowing spray of iron in the forge

  Mightily it rears up a black horse; the maid’s hyacinthine lock

  Snatches after the fervour of its crimson nostrils.

  The cry of the partridge stiffens to yellow walls a plough rusts in rotting manure

  Softly red wine trickles, the gentle guitar at the inn.

  O death! The sick soul’s arching in decay silence and childhood.

  With faces insane the bats flutter up.

  (Untitled)

  O the leaf-stripped beeches and blackish snow.

  Softly blows the north wind. Here on the brown path

  A darkness walked months past.

  Alone in autumn. Always the flakes fall

  In the bare branches

  In the dry reeds; green crystal sings in the pond

  Empty the hut of straw; childlike

  Are birches blown on the night wind.

  O the way that gently freezes in the darkness.

  And the dwelling place in rosy snow

  To Novalis

  (version 2)

  In dark earth rests the holy stranger.

  God took the lament from his gentle mouth,

  When he sank into his blossoming.

  A blue flower

  His song lives on in the nocturnal house of pain.

  Nocturnal Lament

  (version 2)

  Night has risen over the rumpled brow

  With lovely stars

  Over the pain-petrified countenance,

  A wild beast gorged on the loving heart

  A fiery angel

  Plunges with shattered breast on stony field,

  Once more a vulture flutters up.

  Woe in lament eternal

  Fire, earth and blue spring mingle.

  To Johanna

  Often I hear your steps

  Resound through the lanes.

  In the little brown garden

  The blueness of your shadow.

  In the summer house at dusk

  I sat silent before my wine.

  A drop of blood

  Fell from your temple.

  In the singing glass

  Hour of eternal melancholy.

  From stars a snowy wind

  Blows through the leaves.

  Each death endures,

  Night the pale man.

  Your purple mouth

  A wound lives in me.

  As if I came from the green

  Hills of firs and legends

  Of our homeland

  For so long forgotten—

  Who are we? Blue lament

  Of a mossy forest source,

  Where the violets

  In spring are secretly fragrant.

  A peaceful village in summer

  Once sheltered the childhood

  Of our race,

  Dying out now on the evening—

  Hill of the white grandchildren.

  We dream the horrors

  Of our nocturnal blood

  Shadows in the stony town.

  Melancholy (III)

  The blue soul has silently closed,

  In the open window the brown forest sinks,

  The stillness of dark beasts; at the bottom

  The mill grinds, clouds rest floods by the footbridge,

  Golden strangers. A procession of horses

  Gallops red in the village. The garden brown and cold.

  The aster freezes, so delicately painted on the fence

  Almost far flown the sunflowers’ gold.

  The voices of whores; dew is poured out

  Onto hard grass and stars white and cold.

  See death painted in fair shadows,

  Tear-filled every countenance and closed.

  To Lucifer

  (version 3)

  Lend your flame to the spirit, glowing melancholy;

  Sighing the head rises into midnight,

  At the greening spring hill; where before

  A gentle lamb bled, the deepest pain

  Endured; but the dark one follows the shadow

  Of evil, or he lifts moist wings

  To the golden disk of the sun and a bell sound

  Convulses his pain-riven breast,

  Wild hope; darkness of flaming downfall.

  Daydreaming

  (version 1)

  Gentle life grows in the stillness

  Step and heart hastens through the green

  Lovers linger by hedges,

  That swell heavily with fragrances.

  The beech ponders; moist bells

  Fell silent, the lad sings

  The fire embraces darkness

  O patience and silent rejoicing.

  Blithe of spirit till the end

  Beautifully inspired, silent night,

  Golden wine, proffered by

  A sister’s blue hands.

  Psalm (II)

  Silence; when the blind sank against the autumnal wall,

  Hearkening with rotten temples, to the flight of ravens;

  Golden stillness of autumn, the face of the father in flickering sun

  At evening into peace of brown oaks the old village declines,

  Red hammering of the forge, a pounding heart.

  Silence; with slow hands the maidservant hides her hyacinthine brow

  Beneath fluttering sunflowers. Fear and silence

  Breaking eyes fill the darkening room, the hesitant steps

  Of old women, flight of purple mouth that slowly dies out in darkness.

  Silent evening in wine. From low-hanging beams falls

  A nocturnal moth, nymph buried in bluish sleep.

  In the yard the farmhand slaughters a lamb, the sweet aroma of blood

  Clouds our brows, the sombre coolness of wells.

  In mourning the dying asters’ melancholy, golden voices on the wind.

  When night falls you gaze on me with mouldered eyes,

  In blue stillness your cheeks have fallen to dust.

  So softly dies a weed fire, into silence the black hamlet in the valley

  As if the cross descended from blue Calvary,
/>
  And the mute earth cast out her dead.

  Age

  More spiritually shine the roses

  By the garden fence;

  O silent soul!

  In the cool vine leaves

  Grazes the crystalline sun;

  O holy purity!

  An old man with noble hands

  Serves ripened fruits.

  O glance of love!

  The Sunflowers

  You golden sunflowers,

  Deeply inclined towards death,

  You humility-filled sisters

  In such stillness

  Helian’s year closes

  Mountain coolness.

  Then with kisses grows pale

  His dark brow

  Amidst those golden

  Flowers of melancholy

  By silent darkness

  The spirit determined.

 

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