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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required In the land of dreams the past Make no my spirit within me burn For the scenes and the hours that may not return Therefore disturbing dreams Trouble the secret stream Shall i then fear the tone? No it is not the warning voice! With all the melodies Her voice was heard from the shore singing A mournful death-song Until overpowered by the sound of the waters In which she perished Down the Mississippi a light canoe towards the cataracts As by the tempest´s wing The mist of spray rose with the cataract´s thunder Her bay lay sleeping at her breath And her dark hair waved Pressed her child to her beating heart Her sweet voice sing her song of death I cannot live without that light- father of waves, roll on.- An Indian woman driven to despair By her husband desertion of her for another wife, Entered a canoe with her children And rowed it down towards the cataracts. 2 The day is ending into my thoughts I was thinking of very old times When i just returned to Amsterdam I tottered the streets The grachten houses Of a street as still And decorous as well kept I swung the mainstreams And waited helplessly She was perhaps stopped And her very fate Hung in the balance with the mass ring Like the gate of the everlasting night What would she do now? I change my floppy disk, usb I had expected to see her Showing with her white teeth smiling Continuosly. 3 What made this emotion So overpowering was How shall i define it One moral chock i received As if something In their development A world of the dead Altogether monstrous, intolerable to thoughts And odious to the soul Deadly danger Dreams have breath And tear and torture In their development
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