Hermann Hesse

A Swarm of Gnats

Many thousand glittering motes
Crowd forward greedily together
In trembling circles.
Extravagantly carousing away
For a whole hour rapidly vanishing,
They rave, delirious, a shrill whir,
Shivering with joy against death.
While kingdoms, sunk into ruin,
Whose thrones, heavy with gold, instantly scattered
Into night and legend, without leaving a trace,
Have never known so fierce a dancing.

1911

go to "I Know, You Walk" go to "Lonesome Night"

go to "The Poet" go to "At Night on the High Seas"

go to "I Know, You Walk"	go to "Lonesome Night"
go to "The Poet"	go to "At Night on the High Seas"