Lieder Ohne Buchstaben


Each poet builds in verse
For every age to see:
His monument, a brass

I would not have it so,
No towers, no tombs, no shows.
As a bird to the green bough
Love comes, love goes.

I call no witnesses;
The songs I make for you
Should pass like a caress
Or the bright dew,

The assent of meeting eyes
When rapture, when laughter
Take silence by surprise;
And silence after;

World in parenthesis,
Smiles we exchange,
Momentary as this kiss;
As fierce, as strange.

Such songs I would prepare
As for our supper spread,
Songs we as simply share
As wine and bread;

Songs for each place and mood,
All seasons of the heart,
And one for solitude
When we two part.

Then to make one song more:
A song the bird alone
Sings after as before
His love has flown.

He sings his first song still
Although his heart is wrung,
For love may change at will,
But not his song.

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