O boundless, boundless evening

O boundless, boundless evening. Soon the glow

Of long hills on the skyline will be gone,

Like clear dream country now, rich-hued by sun.

O boundless evening where the cornfields throw

The scattered daylight back in an aureole.

Swallows high up are singing, very small.

On every meadow glitters their swift flight,

In woods of rushes and where tall masts stand

In brilliant bays. Yet in ravines beyond

Between the hills already nests the night.

-Georg Heym

Trans. Christopher Middleton