The Last Count of Brederode Evades Turkish Captivity

Summary

Hell-bent and barely half a mile away,

they hurled their gaudy death threats. Meanwhile, he

was lost, and fled like nothing more than prey.

The long line of his noble ancestry

meant nothing now. To run like this felt feral,

he thought, as if he were mere game. Until,

that is, the flashing river loomed. His will

grew firm and raised him in his mortal peril

and made a boy of royal blood again.

Sweet noble women's smiles poured in, in spate;

his face was old before it should have been.

And then, to make his heart match with his fate —

a fiery heart — he spurred the horse, and in

they plunged, as if this were his castle gate.

Die Kurtisane

Venedigs Sonne wird in meinem Haar

ein Gold bereiten: aller Alchemie

erlauchten Ausgang. Meine Brauen, die

den Brücken gleichen, siehst du sie

hinführen ob der lautlosen Gefahr

der Augen, die ein heimlicher Verkehr

an die Kanäle schließt, so daß das Meer

in ihnen steigt und fällt und wechselt. Wer

mich einmal sah, beneidet meinen Hund,

weil sich auf ihm oft in zerstreuter Pause

die Hand, die nie an keiner Glut verkohlt,

die unverwundbare, geschmückt, erholt —.

Und Knaben, Hoffnungen aus altem Hause,

gehn wie an Gift an meinem Mund zugrund.