his mother’s dark lament
Posts tagged lament.
In this hour I was the white son in my father’s death. In blue showers
the night wind came from the hill; the dark lament of the mother.
Georg Trakl, trans. Jim Doss & Werner Schmitt.
Soul sang of death, the green decay of flesh,
And it was the murmur of the forest,
The fervid lament of the animals.
Her lament is for a great river where no willows grow,
Her lament is for a field, where corn and herbs grow not.
Her lament is for a pool, where fishes grow not,
Her lament is for a thicket, where no reeds grow.
Her lament is for woods, where tamarisks grow not.
Her lament is for a wilderness, where no cypresses grow.
Her lament is for the garden, where honey and wine grow not.
Her lament is for meadows, where no plants grow.
Lament of the Flutes for Tammuz, Inanna: Her Sumerian Stories and Hymns.