I saw many towns as if robbed by flame
And the times accumulated atrocity after atrocity,
And saw a lot of people putrefy to dust,
And everything float into oblivion.
I saw the gods fall to the night,
The holiest harps powerlessly smashed,
And kindled anew from putrefaction,
A new life swelling to the day.
Swelling to the day and again passing,
The eternally identical tragedy,
That thus we play without understanding,
And its insanity’s nightly torture
Wreathes the soft glory of beauty
Like a smiling universe of thorns.
(#3 From Georg Trakl’s Three Dreams )