So the year ends enormously
With golden wine and fruit of the gardens.
All around the forests silence wonderfully
And are the lonely one's companions.
Then the countryman says: it is good.
You evening bells long and quiet
Still give glad courage to the end.
A line of birds greets on the journey.
It is the mild time of love.
In the boat down the blue river
How beautifully image is strung to image -
That declines in rest and silence.
[via Georg Trakl: Poems]