Sommersneige

End of Summer

The green summer has become
So quiet, your crystalline countenance.
By the evening pond the flowers died,
A frightened call of a blackbird.

Futile hope of life. Already the swallow
In the house prepares for the journey
And the sun sinks at the hill;
The night already beckons to the starry journey.

Silence of villages; the abandoned forests
Resound all around. Heart,
Now bend more lovingly
Over the calm sleeping woman.

The green summer has become
So quiet; and the stranger's footstep
Rings through the silver night.
Would a blue deer remember his path,

The harmony of his spiritual years!

Trakl