Harvest time and these heaving skies.
The season the land radiates light from inside her,
Consumptive broad-winged clouds
Are swept into the distance by the storm -
Then it pales once more, the paleness of your lonely house
From inside the greenish black forest
Then calls me from its windows:
In my heart she hides
From before the storm.
And when you sit so in front of the hearth
And its gold dances
On that auburn head of yours, leaning;
Let the light flow in your fingers
As I see the black of your silk dress
Let the bright flames dance.
Let apples from your table burn in silence,
A wealth of gold stain berries shall pass the basket's lip,
The blessing given its sated smell.
Let the forest storm and thunder
Its song is sweet
In the quiet
Corner of your preciousness.
You and I -
Above us,
A roaring of seas.We are hidden
Like two pearls
In their shell
On the floor of the ocean.
I didn't know my own soul --
And my soul had its fill of silence,
Look: the wings of my spirit are trembling...
Let the forest storm and thunder
The wind strike its waves
May your shaking gaze rest on me.
You are the blessing,
You are the peace -
And the storm screams at my soul...
Listen, a tumult of mighty waves in the forest
The land and all its host are summoned,
The world has poured out its soul
Before the Lord in the storm.
Vienna 1909