Caught in a room.
Great peril.
No exit.
But there: a window: open: launch
Yourself -- I am flying
Free
But it is raining
A drizzle
It is raining, a drizzle
It is raining
raining . . .
raining . . .
1926
(from Some Poems, translated by Anselm Hollo, Scorpion Press, 1962)
Posted by Hans.
Sunday, April 18, 2010
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment