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Posts Tagged ‘blakc’

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Sieh, die Flocken schweben nieder,
Sterne hüllen in ein weißes Mieder
Haus und Garten freundlich ein,
uns sie decken alle Narben,
alle Blumen, die verdarben,
decken Strauch und wilden Wein.

Langsam schwindet alles Rauhe,
alles Welke, alles Graue
Seltsam neu erscheint die Welt.
Weiße Läufer auf den Wegen,
überall der weiße Segen,
der vom tiefen Himmel fällt.

Welch ein Schweben aus Kristallen,
welch ein schwereloses Fallen,
Wie wenn kein Gewicht mehr gilt.
Daunenflocken, Flockendaunen!
Und ich stehe voll Erstaunen
vor dem ewig jungen Bild.

— by Max Zimmering

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We had nothing special to give each other, but we still looked at each other with tsunamis crashing on our lips. We were plain, but we loved like the ballerina in the music box that danced even when the lid was shut. We were average, but sparks flew from our frayed wires when we touched.

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What was said to the rose that made it open was said

to me here in my chest.

What was told the cypress that made it strong

and straight, what was

whispered the jasmine so it is what it is, whatever made

sugarcane sweet, whatever

was said to the inhabitants of the town of Chigil in

Turkestan that makes them

so handsome, whatever lets the pomegranate flower blush

like a human face, that is

being said to me now. I blush. Whatever put eloquence in

language, that’s happening here.

The great warehouse doors open; I fill with gratitude,

chewing a piece of sugarcane,

in love with the one to whom every that belongs!

— Rumi

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