Departure

Else Lasker-Schüler

1932

The rain cleaned off the steep facade of houses;
I write upon the white and stony sheet
And feel how my tired hand so softly rouses
From love poems that always, sweetly, were a cheat.
I wake in the stormy night, on high waves of the sea!
Perhaps I have slipped from my angel’s loving hand;
I cheated the world, and the world has cheated me;
I…
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