The King

Summary

The King is sixteen: no more regency.

At just sixteen, he is the State.

He looks, as if from ambush; looks to see

beyond the Council graybeards, straight

out past them, somewhere deep into the hall.

Perhaps he feels upon his skin

the cold chain of the Fleece, and that is all.

It chills his chin — long, hard, and thin.

The instrument of death has been

without his signature

so long! They think, “Such agony!”

They'd know — if him they knew, they knew for sure —

that he is slowly counting seventy

before he lifts his pen.

Auferstehung

Der Graf vernimmt die Töne,

er sieht einen lichten Riß;

er weckt seine dreizehn Söhne

im Erb-Begräbnis.

Er grüßt seine beiden Frauen

ehrerbietig von weit —;

und alle, voll Vertrauen,

stehn auf zur Ewigkeit

und warten nur noch auf Erich

und Ulriken Dorotheen,

die, sieben- und dreizehnjährig, (sechzehnhundertzehn)

verstorben sind im Flandern,

um heute vor den andern

unbeirrt herzugehn.