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Thomas Bettinelli



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3.19.2009

Kaspar Hauser

Er wahrlich liebte die Sonne, die purpurn den Hügel hinabstieg,
Die Wege des Walds, den singenden Schwarzvogel
Und die Freude des Grüns.

Ernsthaft war sein Wohnen im Schatten des Baums
Und rein sein Antlitz.
Gott sprach eine sanfte Flamme zu seinem Herzen :
O Mensch !

Stille fand sein Schritt die Stadt am Abend;
Die dunkle Klage seines Munds :
Ich will ein Reiter werden.

Ihm aber folgte Busch und Tier,
Haus und Dämmergarten weißer Menschen
Und sein Mörder suchte nach ihm.

Frühling und Sommer und schön der Herbst
Des Gerechten, sein leiser Schritt
An den dunklen Zimmern Träumender hin.

Nachts blieb er mit seinem Stern allein;
Sah, daß Schnee fiel in kahles Gezweig
Und im dämmernden Hausflur den Schatten des Mörders.
Silbern sank des Ungebornen Haupt hin.
He truly loved the purple sun descending from the hill,
The ways through the woods, the singing blackbird
And the joy of the green.
Sombre was his dwelling in the shadows of the tree
And his face undefiled.
God spoke a tender flame unto his heart:
Oh human !
Silently his step turned to the city in the evening;
The dark complaint fell from his mouth :
I shall become a horseman.
But bush and beast did follow his ways
To the pale people’s house and twilight garden,
And his murderer sought after him.
Spring and summer and so beautiful the fall
Of the righteous one, his silent steps
Drawing to the dreamers’ darkened rooms.
At night he and his star remained lonely.
He saw the snow fall on bare branches
And in the murky doorway the assassin’s shadow.
In silver sank the unborne’s head.

Georg Trakl (1914)

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