Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
The Ultimate Vehicle of Earthly Bliss - 10. Like burgundy red gladiolus
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II. Oden, Sonette, und Übertragungen aus fremden Sprachen
Der Troubadour singt:
Ich wollte Flöte spielen in der Nacht
Daß meine Schmerzen gleich burgunderroten
Gladiolen dir zu Füßen lohten
Bis deine Seele mir erwacht.
Und wenn mein Lied wie seufzerschweres Sterben
Die Nacht durchbricht, wirst du dein Leben
Mir todesbang – in Seligkeiten geben – –
Mit meinen Schmerzen will ich um dich werben. [i]
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II. Odes, Sonnets, and Renderings from
Foreign Languages
Thus Sings the Troubadour:
I had hoped to play my flute in the night
So my sorrows would be like gladiolus
Blooming burgundy red at your feet
Until your soul might awaken.
And when my song broke through like a dying sigh
Upon the long hours of the night, you’d lay down
Your life for me, bent by death – in total bliss – –
Thus shall my sorrows seek to enrapture you.
[i] “Der Troubadour singt:” Toni Schwabe Komm kühle Nacht: Verse (Munich 1908), p. 66
https://archive.org/details/3476447/page/66/mode/2up
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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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