Author Georg Trakl Over the forests the moon Gleams pale, makes us dream, The willow by the dark pond Weeps soundlessly in the night. A heart extinguishes - and placidly The fogs flood and rise - Silence, silence! Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments