THE BLACK HERALDS
3
THE BLACK HERALDS
There are such blows in life, so strong. . . I don’t know!
Blows like God’s hatred; as if before them,
the undercurrent of everything suffered
were welling up in the soul. . . I don’t know!
Blows like God’s hatred; as if before them,
the undercurrent of everything suffered
were welling up in the soul. . . I don’t know!
There are few of them; but they’re there. . . They open dark trenches
in the toughest face and in the strongest back.
Perhaps they’ll turn out to be the foals of barbarous attilas;
or the black heralds sent us by Death.
in the toughest face and in the strongest back.
Perhaps they’ll turn out to be the foals of barbarous attilas;
or the black heralds sent us by Death.
