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One of the ancients,once said that poetry is "the mirror of the perfect soul." Instead of simply writing down travel notes or, not really thinking about the consequences, expressing your thoughts, memories or on paper, the poetic soul needs to seriously work hard to clothe the perfect content in an even more perfect poetic form.
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Reading books RomanceThe unity of form and content is what distinguishes poetry from other areas of creativity. However, this is precisely what titanic work implies.
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Genre of poetry touches such strings in the human soul, the existence of which a person either didn’t suspect, or lowered them to the very bottom, intending to give them delight.


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Read books online » Poetry » Der goldene Reiter by Elfi Benning (fantasy books to read .txt) 📖

Book online «Der goldene Reiter by Elfi Benning (fantasy books to read .txt) 📖». Author Elfi Benning



Ein Sommertag

Shice auf die Welt

Shice auf die Welt
um uns herum.
Was solls,wir tanzen jetzt.
Hast du gesagt
Es war dein letzter Gruß.

Renn mit mir nun selbst
um die Wette,
Laufe täglich meine Runde
im Park..
Kanns nicht mehr lassen,
dies Denken an dich.

Ein Flieger am Himmel,
entferntes Geräusch.
Es trifft mich so hart.
Bin ich es gewesen,
die dich so enttäuscht?
Bleib stehn an meiner Bank
mein Atem so schwer,
mein Inneres liegt so blank.

Ich warte und warte.
doch nichts geschieht
Ich will das nicht spüren,
wollt niemand gehören.
Dreh meine Runden,
ausser Atem.
Mach die Musik lauter,
der Player schreit in mein Ohr.
Betäubt mich.
Hör den Song.Unser Lied.

Bin der goldene Reiter,
der in die Sonne geriet.
Lass mir die Flügel verbrennen,
aber es nützt mir nichts,
dagegen anzurennen.
Und ich laufe weiter und weiter.

Meinen Baum in voller Blüte
von Ferne ich seh,
mein Traumbaum,
umarmt wie oft,
der Stamm aber blutet,

Und riech seinen Duft.
Noch einmal in voller Blüte er,
so seinen Lebenssaft verströmt.
Seinen Schmerz,
den ich spür,
eigene Erinnerung ruft.

Ach dieses Denken,es ist so hart,
dreh meine Runde im Park,
Meine Sehnsucht
gilt dem verlorenen,magischen Licht.
Rufe meinen Engel,
doch er meldet sich nicht.


A summer day

Shice to the world

Shice to the world
around us.
What will it
we dance now.
Did you say.
It was your last greeting.

Race with me even now,
to be visited.
During my daily round of
in the park.
Can there be no more
This thinking of you.

A plane in the sky,
distant noise.

It hit me so hard.
Am I been
which you so disappointed?
Stop there, at my bank,
my breathing is so difficult
my heart is so bright.

I wait and wait.
but nothing happens.
I do not feel this,
nobody wanted to belong.

Turning my rounds
out of breath.
Make the music louder,
the player yells in my ear.
Stunned me.
Hear the sound, our song.

Am the golden rider
who fell into the sun.
Let me burn the wings
but it does nothing to me
however, hurl.
And I ran on and on.

My tree in full bloom
I see from afar,
my dream tree
hugs as often
But the stem bleeding

And I can smell its fragrance.
hold on my head,
direct my focus
him
Once in full bloom, he,
exudes its lifeblood.
His pain, his offense
I can feel,
own alarm calls.

Oh, that thinking, it is so hard
I turn my lap in the park,
My longing
is your lost, magical light.

Cries of longing for my angel
but he does not answer.


By Elfi Benning

Imprint

Text: cover by Elfi benning
Publication Date: 03-06-2010

All Rights Reserved

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