Click in the field, then press CTRL+C to copy the HTML code
The First Night
Now night comes, the first night in the grave.
O where is all the brightness that surrounded you?
Your bed is made in the cold earth.
How will you sleep tonight?
Your pillow is damp from the last rain;
nightbirds scream, scared away by the wind;
no little lamps burn for you now; only the moonlight,
cold and pale, plays on the place where you sleep.
The hours creep by-- will you sleep till daylight?
Do you, like me, hear every toll of the bell?
How can I lie peacefully and sleep for a little while
when you, my love, are in such a bad bed?
You came, you went with a light trace,
a fleeting guest in this land of earth;
Where from? Whither? We only know:
from God's hand to God's hand.
poem
by
Isolde Kurz
solid border
dashed border
dotted border
double border
groove border
ridge border
inset border
outset border
no border
blue
green
red
purple
cyan
gold
silver
black