In Red Foliage Full of Guitars
In red foliage full of guitars
the girls’ yellow hair waves
at the fence, where sunflowers persist.
A golden chariot steers through the clouds.
In brown shadows the ancients
grow dumb, and dumbly entwine.
The orphaned ones sing vespers-sweetly.
Flies hum in the yellow haze.
In the stream the women wash.
The hung linen undulates.
The little girl, long dead to me,
returns throughout the dawning night.
From the tender sky sparrows fling themselves
into green holes pregnant with rot.
The hungry are filled
with the ghost of bread and spices.
Translated by Eric Plattner
…………………….
Im roten Laubwerk voll Guitarren
Im roten Laubwerk voll Guitarren
Der M
(Georg Trakl)
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