I am not dead. Through slit and crack <br />The piercing ray only glanced me, <br />And in the glow of self-possession <br />I survive once more once again. <br /> <br />Through open shutters with waves surges <br />A blue that does not look blue to me. <br />Like a baby the air's nursed itself <br />Full of the sun's milk that melts down. <br /> <br />On the sea a steamer's whistle <br />Blows like a rutting stag. <br />From mountains flashes a secret army's <br />Visible-invisible birth. <br /> <br />I am not dead. I'd like to shout loud <br />On this day of who gets mercy, <br />That today each of my sails fills <br />Themselves once more once again.<br /><br />Franz Werfel<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/morning-hymn-4/
