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Twenty Poems of Georg Trakl
"Chosen [from 'Die Dichtungen', published by Otto Müller Verlag in Salzburg] and translated by James Wright and Robert Bly. With introductions by the translators." "Trakl is a supreme example of patience and bravery, and the worlds which these virtues enabled him to explore, and whose inhabitants he so faithfully describes, are places of great fullness and depth. His poems are not objects to be used and then cast aside, but entrances into places where deep, silent labors go on."
- GenresPoetryLiteratureClassics
61 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 1961
About the author
Georg Trakl
168 books219 followersGeorg Trakl was an Austrian poet. He is considered one of the most important Austrian Expressionists.
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Displaying 1 - 17 of 17 reviews
August 25, 2021
3 stars for translations (not Trakl's poems) by comparison to Daniel Simko's in Autumn Sonata: Selected Poems, reviewed here.
August 22, 2023
بیشتر از اینکه به شعر و ترجمهاش فکر کنم
به زندگی گئورگ تراکل و رابطهاش با خاهرش فکر میکردم
جاییکه در این بیست شعر فقط یک جا به آن اشاره شد اما
یکی از متون اصلی ارجاعی فیلم دریاچه گرندریو بود و باعث شد من با این شاعر آشنا بشم
به زندگی گئورگ تراکل و رابطهاش با خاهرش فکر میکردم
جاییکه در این بیست شعر فقط یک جا به آن اشاره شد اما
یکی از متون اصلی ارجاعی فیلم دریاچه گرندریو بود و باعث شد من با این شاعر آشنا بشم
August 25, 2018
Spiders search for my heart.
October 8, 2024
Fragments of indescribable beauty inscribed within an eternal, all-consuming melancholy
Read
July 2, 2022I've really been in a poetry mood this year! This collection was dark but beautiful. Here were some of my favorite lines/stanzas:
"Cold metal strikes against my forehead.
Spiders seek my heart.
There is a light that extinguishes in my mouth."
"Yet a red cloud, in which a furious god,
The spilled blood itself, has its home, silently
Gathers, a moonlike coolness in the willow bottoms;"
"And the rats squeak eagerly as if insane
And go out to fill houses and barns
Which are filled full of fruit and grain.
Icy winds quarrel in the darkness."
"In the collapsing houses
Decay is fluttering out with black wings;"
"The fallen angel stares at his reflection with sighs"
"The dark cry of trumpets
Travelled in the golden branches
Of the soaked elms,
A frayed flag
Smoking with blood,
To which a man listens
In wild despair."
"Cold metal strikes against my forehead.
Spiders seek my heart.
There is a light that extinguishes in my mouth."
"Yet a red cloud, in which a furious god,
The spilled blood itself, has its home, silently
Gathers, a moonlike coolness in the willow bottoms;"
"And the rats squeak eagerly as if insane
And go out to fill houses and barns
Which are filled full of fruit and grain.
Icy winds quarrel in the darkness."
"In the collapsing houses
Decay is fluttering out with black wings;"
"The fallen angel stares at his reflection with sighs"
"The dark cry of trumpets
Travelled in the golden branches
Of the soaked elms,
A frayed flag
Smoking with blood,
To which a man listens
In wild despair."
Read
March 27, 2025GRODEK
At evening the woods of autumn are full of the sound
Of the weapons of death, golden fields
And blue lakes, over which the darkening sun
Rolls down; night gathers in
Dying recruits, the animal cries
Of their burst mouths.
Yet a red cloud, in which a furious god,
The spilled blood itself, has its home, silently
Gathers, a moonlike coolness in the willow bottoms;
All the roads spread out into the black mold.
Under the gold branches of the night and stars
The sister’s shadow falters through the diminishing
grove,
To greet the ghosts of the heroes, bleeding heads;
And from the reeds the sound of the dark flutes of
autumn rises. -
O prouder grief! you bronze altars,
The hot flame of the spirit is fed today by a more
monstrous pain,
The unborn grandchildren.
At evening the woods of autumn are full of the sound
Of the weapons of death, golden fields
And blue lakes, over which the darkening sun
Rolls down; night gathers in
Dying recruits, the animal cries
Of their burst mouths.
Yet a red cloud, in which a furious god,
The spilled blood itself, has its home, silently
Gathers, a moonlike coolness in the willow bottoms;
All the roads spread out into the black mold.
Under the gold branches of the night and stars
The sister’s shadow falters through the diminishing
grove,
To greet the ghosts of the heroes, bleeding heads;
And from the reeds the sound of the dark flutes of
autumn rises. -
O prouder grief! you bronze altars,
The hot flame of the spirit is fed today by a more
monstrous pain,
The unborn grandchildren.
December 25, 2010
An intense, great piece of work concerned with despair, anxiety, and depression. A heap of what I reckon are personal associations appear throughout the collection-silver, stairways, and thorns specifically. It does feel like the writing of someone either from a very different time, place or in a state of mental anguish, and from the history of Trakl, that is exactly what was going on. Knowing that does change the perspective I had reading these 20 poems. Although I recommend reading up on Trakl, his occupation, and a bit about WWI, without any of this insight, these are great poems which speak to the depths of despair that isn´t difficult to understand, the nightmares we share, and the isolation we often have to exist within.
August 9, 2023
Georg Trakl’s “Twenty Poems of Georg Trakl,” is a guided tour through the ellipsis. These poems all manifest a looming silence. For the most part, Trakl allows his images to serve as his voice, and the images evoke a darkening vision, a drunken dream tainted by madness. On the whole, it is an imagery of silence. Sometimes disjointed, but always foreboding, Trakl is a poet of moods and dreams.
Trakl died when he was 27, a suicide on the Eastern Front. A pharmacist by training, he became a medical corpsman in the Austro-Hungarian army. His service placed him in the field near Lemberg, where roughly 325,000 countrymen were killed, wounded, or captured. Depressed and feeling hopeless after the battle of Grodek, Trakl who had spent the better part of an evening recovering around 90 badly wounded men, threatened suicide. Later, he was evacuated to Cracow, where he ended his life on 3 November 1914. “Grodek”, the last of the poems in this compilation, thought to be his last work, culminates in a harrowing lament for his generation:
O prouder grief! you bronze altars,
The hot flame of the spirit is fed today by a more
monstrous pain,
The unborn grandchildren.
Trakl died when he was 27, a suicide on the Eastern Front. A pharmacist by training, he became a medical corpsman in the Austro-Hungarian army. His service placed him in the field near Lemberg, where roughly 325,000 countrymen were killed, wounded, or captured. Depressed and feeling hopeless after the battle of Grodek, Trakl who had spent the better part of an evening recovering around 90 badly wounded men, threatened suicide. Later, he was evacuated to Cracow, where he ended his life on 3 November 1914. “Grodek”, the last of the poems in this compilation, thought to be his last work, culminates in a harrowing lament for his generation:
O prouder grief! you bronze altars,
The hot flame of the spirit is fed today by a more
monstrous pain,
The unborn grandchildren.
June 30, 2019
Cold, chilly. Silent. In its abstraction, its use of colour and use of animals it really reminded me of Franz Marc.
I ended up reading this 4.5 times through because it only takes like 20 minutes to read and the poems are a wash of images, not dense or dry or difficult. I think he's a really cool poet and actually an excellent choice for anyone who hasn't read much poetry yet and is looking to branch out. I don't feel greatly compelled to seek out more of his poetry, the material here is so samey that I suspect I wouldn't find anything terribly new and exciting in any of his other poems. I may well re-read this another couple of times though.
I don't love his vision. It's pretty horrible. These are horrible poems. They aren't a warm fuzzy blanket of trees and rivers and princesses in castles etc.
I don't love it but it's actually pretty first rate stuff compared to a lot of the poetry I've read. Strongly recommended for anyone looking for an accessible poet.
I ended up reading this 4.5 times through because it only takes like 20 minutes to read and the poems are a wash of images, not dense or dry or difficult. I think he's a really cool poet and actually an excellent choice for anyone who hasn't read much poetry yet and is looking to branch out. I don't feel greatly compelled to seek out more of his poetry, the material here is so samey that I suspect I wouldn't find anything terribly new and exciting in any of his other poems. I may well re-read this another couple of times though.
I don't love his vision. It's pretty horrible. These are horrible poems. They aren't a warm fuzzy blanket of trees and rivers and princesses in castles etc.
I don't love it but it's actually pretty first rate stuff compared to a lot of the poetry I've read. Strongly recommended for anyone looking for an accessible poet.
February 27, 2018
It´s always perspicacious to read several translations. Having said that, this is
the best english one I have read so far.
For a taste:
On The Eastern Front
The ominous anger of masses of men
Is like the wild organ of the winter storm, The purple surge of battle,
Leafless stars.
With broken eyebrows and silver arms The night waves to dying soldiers.
In the shade of the ash tree of autumn The souls of the slain are sighing.
A thorny desert surrounds the city.
The moon chases the shocked women From the bleeding stairways.
Wild wolves have broken through the door.
the best english one I have read so far.
For a taste:
On The Eastern Front
The ominous anger of masses of men
Is like the wild organ of the winter storm, The purple surge of battle,
Leafless stars.
With broken eyebrows and silver arms The night waves to dying soldiers.
In the shade of the ash tree of autumn The souls of the slain are sighing.
A thorny desert surrounds the city.
The moon chases the shocked women From the bleeding stairways.
Wild wolves have broken through the door.
Want to Read
February 27, 2022몽상과 착란 (읻다) & 푸른 순간, 검은 예감 (민음사)
1
Summer 여름 177
Trumpets 트럼펫 68
The Sun 태양 175
Song of The Western Countries 서양의 노래 (민음)
My Heart at Evening 저녁, 나의 마음 47
The Rats들쥐들 75
On The Marshy Pastures 늪지에서 125
In Hellbrun 헬부른에서 200
2
Birth 탄생 (민음)
De Profundis 심연에서 66
Descent and Defeat (To Karl Borromaus Heinrich) X
The Heart 심장 201
In Venice 베네치아 172
The Mood of Depression 우울 52
The Evening 저녁 207
3
TWO PROSE FRAGMENTS (A Winter Night) 겨울밤 137, 겨울밤 169
On The Eastern Front 동쪽에서 217
Mourning 비탄 218
Sleep 수면 203
Grodek 그로데크 219
1
Summer 여름 177
Trumpets 트럼펫 68
The Sun 태양 175
Song of The Western Countries 서양의 노래 (민음)
My Heart at Evening 저녁, 나의 마음 47
The Rats들쥐들 75
On The Marshy Pastures 늪지에서 125
In Hellbrun 헬부른에서 200
2
Birth 탄생 (민음)
De Profundis 심연에서 66
Descent and Defeat (To Karl Borromaus Heinrich) X
The Heart 심장 201
In Venice 베네치아 172
The Mood of Depression 우울 52
The Evening 저녁 207
3
TWO PROSE FRAGMENTS (A Winter Night) 겨울밤 137, 겨울밤 169
On The Eastern Front 동쪽에서 217
Mourning 비탄 218
Sleep 수면 203
Grodek 그로데크 219
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
January 28, 2019
From Revelation and Defeat
On silver soles I climbed down the thorny stairs, and I walked into the white-washed room. A light
burned there silently, and without speaking I wrapped my head in purple linen; and the earth threw out a
childlike body, a creature of the moon, that slowly stepped out of the darkness of my shadow, with broken
arms, stony waterfalls sank away, fluffy snow.
you can read this online here!
On silver soles I climbed down the thorny stairs, and I walked into the white-washed room. A light
burned there silently, and without speaking I wrapped my head in purple linen; and the earth threw out a
childlike body, a creature of the moon, that slowly stepped out of the darkness of my shadow, with broken
arms, stony waterfalls sank away, fluffy snow.
you can read this online here!
November 11, 2025
I didnt expect it to have both the german and the translation, but im glad it did because I got to practice my German and also I think I like the originals better (hot take but rilke is better in english). The poems werent as crazy as nick land led me to believe, but very emotive and I liked the symbolic language. I think my favorite was Die Schwermut, but tbh the prose fragments were the best part. I'm probably not actually giving up on poetry.
November 3, 2026
Look, I don't read much poetry-adjacent stuff, and Twenty Poems of Georg Trakl still got under my skin. Georg Trakl writes short, sparse chapters that feel like voice memos from someone trying to be honest, and the one about the last day in a childhood home made me put the book down and just stare at the wall. It's not for everybody, and a few pieces feel unfinished. For readers who like quiet, reflective writing. Skip it if you want a traditional story.
June 1, 2024
8.8/10
Randomly discovered this on a PDF and thought “oh let me see what this is” and wow. Sucked me in. Very very good, the prose pieces are just immaculate
Randomly discovered this on a PDF and thought “oh let me see what this is” and wow. Sucked me in. Very very good, the prose pieces are just immaculate
August 26, 2020
Simply the best versions of of Trakl's poems in English there are - pity Wright and Bly didn't translate all Trakl's work.
November 13, 2025
Underrated and brilliant.
Displaying 1 - 17 of 17 reviews