will it bloom this year?

deep and inscrutable singular

between melting and freezing

shortly afterwards the parrot died too

red into grey and tumble down

the dead tree gives no shelter

on a winter evening round behind the gashouse

and the evening circle in the winter

no defence

the winter evening settles down

wo weilest du?

I was drawn in by short gasps

you can hardly make the word

through the first gate

what's the wind doing

and they were behind us

sullen, untamed and intractable

every moment is a new and shocking valuation of all we have been.

thinking of the key

my heart under my feet

shall we follow?

I am moved by fancies that are curled

wipe your hand across your mouth, and laugh

please listen to me

the nymphs are departed

musing upon the king

endless invention

long hoped for calm

the soul's sap quivers

feeding a little life with dried tubers

when the human engine waits

but to what purpose

the endless cycle of idea and action

the trailing consequence of further days and hours

knowledge of speech, but not of silence

all time is unredeemable

they don't mean to do harm

let it be

if there were water we should stop and drink

reminder what men choose to forget

one half-formed thought

can see at the violet hour, the evening hour that strives

drank coffee, and talked for an hour

only through time time is conquered

all manner of thing shall be well

framed by the coloured stone

I do not know much about Gods

both one and many

there is always another one walking beside you

it was not (to start again) what one had expected