Sehnsucht

A surprise is coming just for me

and no one knows this but me

 

It feels like moths not butterflies

perhaps it’s wasps or dragonflies

 

The past is jousting the present

before my future’s very eyes

 

I cannot tell if it’s good or mal

but coming it must, it I will trust

 

A sunset or a sunrise, rebirth or

just death, clues hit without rest

 

This puzzle too much to invision

and nerves too grand to neglect

 

No matter a fate I long sehnsucht

I yearn all I am for fruition to set

Oskar Zwintscher, Sehnsucht/ 1895

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