Georg Trakl: A Winter Evening
When the snow drizzles into the window,
And the evening bell thunders,
The table is stacked for the mob;
The house is well-stocked.
Wanderers emerge from their wandering,
Creeping down darkling paths.
Golden blossoms the tree of grace
From the earth’s corpse-sap.
Silently the wanderer enters;
Pain crystallizes the threshold.
On the table, in pure radiance
Glimmering bread and wine.
Translated by Joseph Suglia