Sommer

Among meagre green leaves,

Among flowers, among blossom,

I hear the distant call of the blackbird

And the harsh cry of the small thrush.

And also the soft and delicate sound

Of days and greetings quickly passing.

A sad summer melody,

Suffused with a final sweetness.

And a burning glow

Is borne on the waves of a parched wind;

Reeling, I seem to recognize

The ring of unuttered screams.

And I sit motionless and tremble,

Feel my hours on earth slip away,

And I stay still and live,

While dreams weave their web around me.