November (Gerrit Achterberg Poems)
The low days of Novemberhave again returned, gray as a pail;at ease with the lessening lighton the faces of children.The ...
The low days of Novemberhave again returned, gray as a pail;at ease with the lessening lighton the faces of children.The ...
It is the same Decemberas your death.You don't remember…Once again that streetat both ends isshrouded in mist;no one else passesby, ...
ISave Marsman, who lives in France, o GodGive him a temple to which he might flee.A cross so that he ...
Corners with household secretsare exposed.Floors hold their breath in shame.The lamp hangs low and large,for its table has been removed.Those, ...
You showed me tonight the rooms again;everything the same. It was again the first timeamong a thousand others that I ...
The clock rules the chamber,monotonous lawsdrone on through the eveningno one can set his rulings aside,no one escapes this room.Today ...
I have declared this Linden to be holy,that I continue to see as a woman.Far enough away there's but little ...
Sometimes, in a shop window, you appear,set up between others of the same gender,dressed in new clothes and markedwith a ...
In this room I'm finally at home.Never again shall I write a verse that tearsmy life apart in order to ...
Close to the windows is the theater of trees.Insects make streaks along the panesand butterflies tumble about each other's booty.A ...
There's a sign-Verdemen-on the trainlinefrom Arnhem going to Utrecht- & Sons.I can easily prove this to you:to the left at ...
Since it so quietly began to snow,new distances have awakened within me.I would like to go to every person nowand ...
4 is squarely masculineand 3 round and feminine9 is distant and out-of-sightof 6 more of the light7 stands apartagainst its ...
Bird of insanity in this house of nervesdives in transport into the darknessthat she has somehow come to love,but doesn't ...
In the sun death has started his work.He has begun his sweet feast.The warm fields are effused with darkness.We walk ...
The best of years past pushes against me again / this evening.All your usual questions find again a listening ear.Is it ...
That I may perish,death, make me sweet;I am a body without name,take it, when you must;the one who has gone ...
A body, blind with sleeprises in my arms, tall,I feel its enormous weight.Death-doll.I am an eternity too late.Does your heart ...
Hulshorst, your name is likeforgotten iron, within the pinesand bitter conifers,rusts your station;where the north-bound trainwith an ungodly grindingcomes to ...
No death manifests in the numberthat connected the two of us.Nothing is in the apparatusother than the hissing of eternity.Perhaps ...
While he slept beneath the pianoas if no morning would ever call to him,began softly upon the white and blackof ...
The window is dead on this side.It doesn't have any other side.The world becomes a wall,against which I move,a fly, ...
The twilight falls like ground.In Holland walks a hound.A hound with very long teeth.He goes through all the landsa large ...
Tonight I have walked with youalong the deaf lanes of sleep,and now that it is morningnothing has changed,other than that ...
Against the sounding board of the nightyour words still move.Everything that you have saidremains alive in the sound of chordsthat ...
The morning blackbird garglescupfuls of bitter wine,dream, that grows grainy with painin the throats of birdsbecause the day must be;because ...
Words going backwardsare on their way to you:so that you may hearyour ears are gone.Sentences inside outbecause your knowing is ...
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