Storm Night by Georg Trakl

O the red evening tide!
Gleaming at the open window swing
vine leaves wound madly into sky
and spirits of fear nestling within.

Dust shimmies in the stench from drains.
The wind presses its shards and rustles.
Advance of wild horses, blitz-framed
in garish flash of cloud bustle.

Loud cracks the pond’s glaze.
Seagulls shriek in window frames.
The rider explodes out of the hill
and crashes among the pines in flames.

The sick cry out in hospital.
The evening’s plumage buzzes blue.
At once descends the booming glitter
of rain onto the rooves.