three copper hearts

thenightwood:

Into pasture land I came
just after night had fallen,
smelling the scars in the meadows
and the wind before it rose.
Love no longer grazed,
and the bells had faded away
and the sheaves stood bent and ragged.
A horn had been stuck in the earth,
stubbornly by the herd’s leader, 
rammed into the darkness.
I drew it from the earth,
I lifted it to the sky
with all my might.
Wanting to fill this land
completely with music,
I blew the horn, 
resolved in the rising wind
to live among the swaying grasses
of every true origin!

Ingeborg Bachmann (from Darkness Spoken, trans. Peter Filkins)