Wherever we turn in this tempest of roses,
thorns brighten the night, and the thunder
of leaves that once lay quiet in the bushes,
now follows at our heels.
Wherever what the roses have lit is extinguished,
the rain carries us to the river. O distant night!
But a leaf that touched us now floats upon the waves,
trailing us down to the mouth of the sea.
Translated from German by Paul Weinfield, © 2015
Image by Leslie Ann O’Dell