The black snow runs down from the rooftops; <br />A red finger dips into your brow; <br />Blue snow flakes sink into the empty room, <br />They are a lovers’ dying mirrors. <br />Heavy and torn to pieces the mind muses, <br />Follows the shadow in the mirror of blue snow flakes, <br />The cold smile of a deceased harlot. <br />The evening’s wind weeps in the scent of carnations.<br /><br />Georg Trakl<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/delirium/
