Franz Werfel Poems
|2.||I'M Still Just A Child||3/30/2012|
|3.||Six Septets To Honor The Spring Of 1905||3/30/2012|
|4.||At Old Railroad Stations||4/21/2010|
|6.||The Creature's Stare||4/21/2010|
|8.||Dead Friend Of My Youth||4/21/2010|
|10.||One Hour Ater The Dance Of Death||4/21/2010|
|11.||Dance Of Death||4/21/2010|
|12.||The Faithful One||4/21/2010|
I am not dead. Through slit and crack
The piercing ray only glanced me,
And in the glow of self-possession
I survive once more once again.
Through open shutters with waves surges
A blue that does not look blue to me.
Like a baby the air's nursed itself
Full of the sun's milk that melts down.
On the sea a steamer's whistle
Blows like a rutting stag.
From mountains flashes a secret army's
I am not dead. I'd like to shout loud
On this day of who gets mercy,
That today each of my sails fills
Themselves once more ...