Georg Heym

From “Modern German Poems”
Translated by Babette Deutsch and Avrahm Yarmolinsky

THE CRIMSON day is steeped in Tyrian dyes;

The stream runs white, washed with a fabulous glaze.

A sail: one with the flying vessel, flies

The skipper’s silhouette, black on the blaze.

On every island autumn’s forests lift

Their ruddy heads where space spreads wide her wings.

From dark defiles low leafy murmurs drift—

Of woodland’s music soft as cithern strings.

With outpoured darkness now the east is soaked,

Like blue wine from an urn that careless hands

Have broken. And afar, in mourning cloaked,

Tall night on shadowy buskins mutely stands.