Friday, January 20, 2012

April 30, 1945

Sixteen years have walked next to us,
beseeching destiny,
and finally, the day has come.

we behold liquid immortality
trembling in a little bulb of glass.
A tender bite for that eternal hunger,
the song of our finality.

Jealous fate has thwarted me twice
but not this time.
My wulf  is here to guide me into the nightfall.

That final gaze is for me,
not for cowards with armbands, not for that Magda,
but for me, Eva, your candled bride.

Foetuses yet unborn
shall one day sift through the matrices of history
and marvel at the glory of our clasp.
My death, geliebter,
shall be the monument of my love.


Basanth said...

Very very interesting, digging the past

Dwiti R said...