In The Storm Of Roses

Wherever we turn in the storm of roses,
the night is lit up by thorns, and the thunder
of leaves, once so quiet within the bushes,
rumbling at our heels.

by Ingeborg Bachmann

Other poems of BACHMANN (19)

Comments (4)

this is the ITALIAN TRANSLATION of this beautiful poem: ''Nella tempesta di rose'' Ovunque ci volgiamo nella bufera di rose, la notte e’ illuminata di spine, e il rombo del fogliame, cosi’ lieve poc’anzi tra i cespugli, ora ci segue alle calcagna. (Ingeborg Bachmann - translation by Maria Teresa Mandalari)
Is it rapture or torment? Yes.
This is beautiful :)
when we fell out of love it was a storm of leaves pieces of us fell everywhere and as i pass by familiar spots they feel like fallen leaves that cannot hold their own anymore they lie, fade, and eventually turn to dust and bond with eternity forgotten and fallen into the back of mind