The Dream of an Afternoon
Be silent! the ancestor arrives;
And his step dusks away again.
Shadows float up and down -
Birches hanging in the window.
And on the old vine-hill
The round dance of fauns romps anew,
And the slender nymphs rise
Quietly from the fountain-mirror.
Hear! A far thunderstorm threatens.
Incense steams from dark cresses,
Moths celebrate silent masses
Before decayed flower trellises.
poem by Georg Trakl
Added by Poetry Lover
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