Marble pillar towers high,
Jagged summit saws the air,
Putrefaction, life’s decay,
Boulders in the abyss down there.
Grim the cliff that upward climbs
Clamps the ground with iron limbs.
Round it spreads the radiance glowing
From its mad and fevered brain,
Sends the ocean surge a-flowing
Crazy, round and round again.
Weary moss shakes grey autumnal locks,
Blood seeps out from under laughing rocks.
Midnight comes, with voices roaring
Crazy from the marble womb,
Like a thousand years’ life thawing,
Like remembrance howling doom.
Should the traveler dare to eavesdrop, he
Turns to stone and crashes in the sea.
(Karl Heinrich Marx)
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