Blackish the step follows the gleaming moon <br /> <br />In the autumnal garden, <br /> <br />The immense night sinks by the freezing wall. <br /> <br />O, the thorny hour of grief. <br /> <br />Silverly the candlestick of the lonely one flickers in the dusking room, <br /> <br />Dying away, when that one thinks a darkness <br /> <br />And bends the stony head over the perishable, <br /> <br />Drunk from wine and nightly harmonies. <br /> <br />The ear always follows <br /> <br />The soft lament of the blackbird in the hazel bushes. <br /> <br />Dark rosary hour. Who are you <br /> <br />Lonesome flute, <br /> <br />Forehead, bent over sinister times freezing.<br /><br />Georg Trakl<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/hour-of-grief/
