Best 17 quotes of Georg Trakl on MyQuotes

Black frost. The ground is hard, the air tastes bitter. Your stars cluster in evil signs.

Cold metal walks across my forehead, spiders search for my heart. It is a light that goes out in my mouth.

Earlier lives drift by on silver soles, and the shadows of the damned descend into these sighing waters.

I do not have easy days at home now and I drift between fear and helplessness in sunny rooms where it is unspeakably cold. Strange shudders of transformation, bodily experienced to the point of vulnerability, visions of mysteries until the certainty of having died, ecstasies to the point of stony petrifaction, and a continuation of dreaming sad dreams.

I drank the silence of God from a spring in the woods.

Shuddering under the autumn stars, each year, the head sinks lower and lower.

Silently, God opens his golden eyes over the place of skulls.

The blue of my eyes is extinguished in this night, the red gold of my heart.

The guilt of newborns is immense.

The near stillness recalls what is forgotten, extinct angels.

When we are thirsty, we drink the white waters of the pool, the sweetness of our mournful childhood.

At the Moor Wanderer in the black wind; quietly the dry reeds whisper In the stillness of the moor. In the gray sky A flock of wild birds follows; Slanting over gloomy waters. Turmoil. In decayed hut The spirit of putrescence flutters with black wings. Crippled birches in the autumn wind. Evening in deserted tavern. The way home is scented all around By the soft gloom of grazing herds; Apparition of the night; toads plunge from brown waters.

A world without fairy tales and myths would be as drab as life without music

Grodek في المساء غابة الخريف ملآى بأصوات أسلحة الموت، الحقول الذهبية والبحيرات الزرقاء، عبر الشمس المظلمة التي تغرب، الليل يجمع فيه مجندون يحتضرون، الحيوانات تصرخ بأفواهها المنفجرة. حتى الغيمة حمراء، حيث الله غاضب، الدم المراق نفسه وصل إلى بيته، بصمت يحشد، رباطة جأش مارس في قيعان الصفصاف، كل الطرقات تمتد إلى القبر الأسود. تحت الأغصان الذهبية في الليل والنجوم أخت الظلال تترنح عبر الأيكة المنكمشة، لتحيي أرواح الأبطال، برؤوسهم المدماة، ومن القصب أصوات مزامير الخريف الكئيبة تعلو. أيتها المصيبة الأبية! مذبحك البرونزي، شعلة الروح الملتهبة لقمت اليوم بالمزيد من، أحفاد مقبلون

MARCELLUS: But look, Agathon, what strange dark light is glowing amongst the clouds. You would think a sea of flame is blazing behind the clouds. A divine fire! And the sky is like a blue bell. It's as if one can hear it tolling in deep, solemn tones. You might even suspect that up there above us, in unattainable heights, something is taking place of which we shall never know. But at times we can sense it, when that vast silence has settled over the earth. And yet! All this is very confusing. The gods have to pose insoluble riddles for us humans. And the earth does not rescue us from the cunning of the gods; for it too is full of things that confound the senses. Both things and humans confuse me. True enough! Things are very taciturn! And the human soul won't yield up its riddles. You ask and it keeps silent. AGATHON: Let's live and not ask questions. Life is full of beauty.

The thrush called strangeness into the sunset.

Under ancient cypress trees, weeping dreams are harvested from sleep.