Neueste Einträge (32)
What too happy to live What too shy to give sound, What too lovely to arise what was born to perish, What the moons never offer roses of withered blossoms, Tears then from young sorrow And a sound of lost joy. You know it, everyone who dies there And those who part forever They must, even if it were to their ruin, Admit the truth without hesitation. So I put it in your hands Whatever moves my heart; It's the last flower donation Laid on a beloved grave. Because I don't like to steer to the country And looking backwards often to the city, Everything seems magical to me, As if in a romantic, fairy robe. It's true, even now on the brink of perdition Is this city a miracle, a poem. Only in the relentless story How clings to the downfall of shame! Completely without sword blow, completely fear to rob, Cowardly wrestled these old lords of the sea Begging in the dust before a young man. And if the palaces sink into the waves, The idols in the glow of the fire, The honor of the name remains the highest. The trees stop blooming My darling wants to go abroad; My darling, he spoke a bitter word: You stay here now, but I have to go. Farewell, my darling, I remain true to you, Wherever you are, wherever I am. in rain and in sunshine, As long as I live, I will remember you. As long as I live I love you And if I die, pray for me And if you come to my grave So think that I loved you The flower breaks the breath of the north wind, The pain in my heart eats away; Whether your misery is brighter too I know you're miserable. My heart that beats hot for you Hides a treasure of pure gold; You could have lifted him But you didn't want it. We could both be happy; You know it well and don't want it. O may you never regret it! Farewell! this is your last poem!
Nemo quaerit, si fas est dicere vale Placuit quid majus nobis Nemo cogitationes nostras et memoriam auferre vult Quodque diu tecum adhuc fuit. Nubes obscurae et tristitia Nubes obscurae et lacrimis Nubes obscurae et vale Et stellam tuam unum in memoria semper lit. semper Nubes obscurae et tristitia Sed ego ducet te in corde Quo ego vado et ite Duo angeli comitantur te ad magnum tentorium nostrum astra. Ibi requiescet in omni tempore Donec iterum conveniant.
Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am not there; I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond glints on snow,
I am the sun on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning’s hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there; I did not die.
Mary Elizabeth Frye, 1905
Oktaven taumeln Echo nach durch graue Jahre.
Hochaufgetürmte Tage stürzen ein.
Dein will ich sein -
Im Grabe wachsen meine gelben Haare
Und in Holunderbäumen leben fremde Völker
Ein blasser Vorhang raunt von einem Mord
Zwei Augen irren ruhelos durchs Zimmer
Gepenster gehen um beim Küchenbord.
Und kleine Tannen sind verstorbene Kinder
Uralte Eichen sind die Seelen müder Greise
Die flüstern die Geschichte des verfehlten Lebens.
Der Klintekongensee singt eine alte Weise.
Ich war nicht vor dem bösen Blick gefeit
Da krochen Neger aus der Wasserkanne,
Das bunte Bild im Märchenbuch, die rote Hanne
Hat einst verzaubert mich für alle Ewigkeit