SOL INVICTUS

Sun throws its beams

gilding the white snows,

but in the February shadows

the blue banks

warm my aching mind;

I shun the light,

the golden rays

for they are not for you

and thus not for me,

I crave the shadows

where I can hide

from the world that went on

and on when it should have stopped

like I did, rooted on your graves.

The Sun shines, the Sun sets,

the Sun rises after abyssal night -

yet not for you

and thus not for me;

stand still or leave

the globe in darkness,

Victorious Sun;

you who stand gazing

with million rays

at the planet, graveyard of man.

17.02.2019