Natura Morta

He has a basket made of dew
the charlatan of heaven
No one, mother, has ever suffered as much..
and his face expired,
but with yet living eyes
he turned from the pillar to the window
and sparrows filled the room
where the father scattered crumbs
to scatter his child...

In heaven i seek your lucky countenance
and my eyes won´t see anything else internal
when god wants to start to close them ..

Never, never will you know,
how the shadow enlightens me,
who lays shy by my side
when the time will come where i will never hope again...

To the hills i went again , to the beloved pine,
and the secret tone within the euphony of the air
which with you i will never hear again
shreds me apart with every breath...

Under the axe of the crestfallen branch,
wenn he starts to fall, he merely laments, just as little
as the leave at the touch of the breeze...
But it was the fiend who knocked down the frail shape and the insistent charity of a voice consumes me...

No elation does summer cost me anymore,
nor do the anticipations of spring;
you may bend now, autumn,
with all your fond glory:
For a robbed wish, winter spreads the most clement season...

Category:

Education

Tags:

• Natura
• morta