Sabbath

A whiff of feverish poisonous plants
Makes me dream in moony dusks,
And quietly I feel entwined, embraced,
And see like a sabbath of insane witches

Blood-colored blossoms in the mirrors' brightness
Pressing flaming prurience from my heart,
And their lips experienced in all arts
Swell furiously near my drunken throat.

Pestilence colored flowers of tropical beaches,
Offer her chalices to my lips,
Cloudy drool-fountains of nauseating tortures.

And one gobbles - o raving Maenad -
My flesh, drooped from the sultry vapors,
And ecstaticized in pain by terrible prurience.

poem by Georg Trakl
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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