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Black frost. The ground is hard, the air tastes bitter. Your stars cluster in evil signs.
Despair, night in the grieving senses.
Earlier lives drift by on silver soles, and the shadows of the damned descend into these sighing waters.
For whoever is lonely there is a tavern.
Frost and smoke. A white shirt of stars burns your worn-out shoulders, and God's vultures tear at your metallic heart.... (more Georg Trakl quotes)
| The poet's madness: A reading of Georg Trakl by Francis Michael Sharp | |
| Autumn Sonata: Selected Poems of Georg Trakl by Georg Trakl and Daniel Simko | |
| The Mirror and the Word: Modernism, Literary Theory, and Georg Trakl (Texts and Contexts) by Eric B. Williams |
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