Whoever you are: in the evening step outof your room, where you know everything; yours is the last house before the far-off: whoever you are. With your eyes, which in their wearinessbarely free themselves from the worn-out threshold, you lift very slowly one black treeand place it against the sky: slender, alone. And you have made the world. And it is hugeand like a word which grows ripe in silence. And as your will seizes on its meaning, tenderly your eyes let it go...
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Biography
Profession:
Poet
Nationality:
German
Born:
December 4, 1875
Died:
December 29, 1926