But you never came with the evening —
I sat waiting in a shawl of stars
...Whenever there was a knocking at my door,
It was my own heart.
It now hangs on every doorpost,
Even on yours;
Between the ferns the fireroses expire
In the withering garland.
I dyed the heaven blackberry
With my heartblood.
But you never came with the evening —
... I stood waiting in golden shoes.


Else Lasker-Schüler
Tradução inglesa de A. Durchschlag e J. Litman-Demeestere
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