Twilight Poem by Ernst Toller
Twilight
In early evening the cell flares up.
Thin shadows slide down the gray walls.
He who cries out in mutiny exhausts into a dream.
The brown stillness sweeps over like a gentle wave.
And often a frosted light fills the choked room.
Figures beckon you to the spiritless circle
where the dance of the heavy coats dissolves into silence,
where dawn breaks into a ringing of bells.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/19/2024 3:54:42 PM # 1.0.0.1119
This isn't a comment about Toller, whose work I admire. I want to register my dismay at finding video adverts for war games posted above every single one of his anti-war poems.The PoemHunter administrators seem to have a moral compass that is far removed from Toller's.