Verlassenheit georg trakl biography
- Georg Trakl (3 February 1887 – 3 November 1914) was an Austrian poet.
- Georg Trakl (1887-1914) Vom Schatten eines Hauchs geboren Wir wandeln in Verlassenheit Und sind im Ewigen verloren, Gleich Opfern unwissend.
- Bevor ich in Nacht und Verlassenheit schritt?
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Georg Trakl (1887-1914)
Vom Schatten eines Hauchs geboren
Wir wandeln in Verlassenheit
Und sind im Ewigen verloren,
Gleich Opfern unwissend, wozu sie geweiht.
[From the shadow of a breath born
We wander forsaken
Lost in the Eternal, forlorn,
Like sacrifices unknowing whither they are taken.](*)
Georg Trakl had a very short and rather unhappy life, but his was the first German poetry I fell in love with, long ago. The quiet and deeply resonating darkness of his unique voice still captivates me when I crack open my copy of his complete works – one slim volume.
Fourth in an upper middle class family of six children (not including a much older stepbrother) in Salzburg, Trakl was a poor, because nonengaged student, but very early on he passionately read Baudelaire, Dostoevsky and Nietzsche and started his first literary experiments in 1904. Unfortunately, he also began his first experiments with drugs around the same time, perhaps in imitation of his idol, Baudelaire. The poor reception of his initial attempts at theater induced an even heavier use of the drugs. He trie
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Georg Trakl > Quotes
“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.”
― Georg Trakl
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“Your body is a hyacinth,
Into which a monk dips his waxy fingers.
Our silence is a black cavern,
From which a soft animal steps at times
And slowly lowers heavy eyelids.
On your temples black dew drips,
The last gold of expired stars”
― Georg Trakl
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“Cold metal walks across my forehead,
spiders search for my heart.
It is a light that goes out in my mouth...”
― Georg Trakl
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“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.
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File:LibriVox - Trakl Verlassenheit.ogg
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