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 Englische Gedichte
Zauberfee Offline

hart, aber herzlich

Beiträge: 304

22.08.2002 00:26
The Angel antworten

I dreamed I saw an angel, the last off all that host
Of cold and barren angels, whose wings have worn to rust.
A dead and bloodied warrior a-lying in the dust.

I turned my eyes to heaven and offerd him a prayer,
But could not guess that in the dark a stranger watched me there.
"What cause have you to pray for Him? What need have you to care?"


I started at this sudden cry and, falling to the ground,
Begged he forgive a traveller, whose words are so ill-found,
A poor and lonely heirophant on holy service bound.

In the darkness covering I splied a pile of bones
And feared to meet the kind of man who sat on such a throne.
Who wore a bleached and wretched face, a face that was my own.


Aghast I could but listen to the spectre´s voice so fell,
So strange and yet familiar, throug how I could not tell.
A cold and deadly weave of words that held me in their spell.

That bid me take the angels sword from his broken hand
To cut the dry and fallen limbs from the trees about the land.
So through the darkest night I raised an angel´s charnel mound.


As darkness turned to twilight I heard the stranger groan
"Bring fire," he said. "and quickly, we must defeat the dawn.
By death and fire and darkness are restless spirits drawn!"

At once, I set the flaming brand to the killing tower.
A hot and howling wind rose up to drive a ranging fire.
The heat grew fierce and maddening as flames consumed by the pyre.


"Now I must go," the stranger cried, "where fallen angels rest."
Before my eyes he leapt upon the angry flame´s caress!
And then I slept, exhausted, as from a spell released.

I dreamed I saw an angel, the last of all that host
Of cold and barren angels, whose wings are worn to rust.
A dead and bloodied warrior a-lying in the dust.

Liebe Grüße an dieser Stelle an ghazghkull, der dieses Gedicht geschrieben hat :o)
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