Annual Transience – S¨oren Wellh¨ofer
TUMN IS DEATH ;
all seems to decay; takes a last breath, and withers away.
In darkness draped, and veiled by gloom, gleams dimly shaped, the shadowy loom.
Now winter is hailing, with shiv’ring squalls; and trees are wailing, in agoniz’d calls.
Ordained by hell, life shall desist; this year as well, must not resist.
As night descends, the welkin blears, brume it portends, and adumbrates fears.
Yon’ forlorn course, condemns to perish; dispatched by force, as daemons cherish.
A
Sun without meaning, in strength now void; her only one leaning, by twilight destroy’d.