Fall
The leaves are falling, falling from afar,
from distant gardens wilting in the heavens;
they fall as if refusing their descent.
And in the nights, through lonely firmament,
the grave earth falls, away from every star.
We’re falling, each of us. This hand here bends.
And look at others: it is in them all.
And yet there is One capturing each fall
within his infinitely gentle hands.
Herbst
Die Blätter fallen, fallen wie von weit,
als welkten in den Himmeln ferne Gärten;
sie fallen mit verneinender Gebärde.