Ingeborg Bachmann

(1926 - 1973 / Austria)

In The Storm Of Roses


Wherever we turn in the storm of roses,
the night is lit up by thorns, and the thunder
of leaves, once so quiet within the bushes,
rumbling at our heels.

Submitted: Monday, January 13, 2003
Edited: Tuesday, January 20, 2015

Topic of this poem: rose

Form:


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  • Freshman - 1,636 Points john tiong chunghoo (7/28/2006 3:59:00 AM)

    when we fell out of love
    it was a storm of leaves
    pieces of us fell everywhere
    and as i pass by familiar spots
    they feel like fallen leaves
    that cannot hold their own anymore
    they lie, fade, and eventually
    turn to dust and bond with eternity
    forgotten and fallen into the back of mind (Report) Reply

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