The valley of dusk was filled
With a silver-grey fragrance, like the moon
Seeping through clouds. But it wasn't night.
The silver-grey fragrance of the dark valley
Caused my sleepy thoughts to blur,
And silently I sank into the weaving,
Transparent sea and left my life.
What wonderful flowers there were,
With dark chalices glowing! A maze of plants
Through which a yellow-red light,
as if from topazes, glowed in warm streams. All
Was filled with a deep swelling
Of melancholy music. And this I knew,
Even though I could not fathom it, but I knew:
This was death. Death turned music,
With an immense longing, sweet and glowing darkly,
Brother to deepest melancholy.
And yet:
A nameless homesickness for life kept crying
Mutely in my soul, crying as someone
On board a big ocean vessel would cry, a ship, driven
By gigantic yellow sails, passing by the city,
His city, at night in dark-blue water. There he sees
The lanes, hears the rushing of the fountains, smells
The scent of the lilac bushes, sees himself,
A child, standing on the shore, with a child's eyes,
Fearful, with tears welling up, sees
Through the open window the light in his room
But the big ship carries him along,
Gliding away on dark-blue water soundlessly,
Driven by gigantic yellow sails of strange shape.
