NIGHT, THE SUMMER IS DYING IN THE NIGHT

Small painted envelope glued on a large one, with additional graphical remarks, mailed to Theresa Ann Aleshire Williams, USA.
Based on Lucebert's poem THE HARVEST.

HARVEST

Night, the summer is dying in the night
Spastic feathers are falling, shrinking around
While clouds strangle the mountains
While in villages we hear whispering sounds of lips

Never before golden eyes traveled so far
in the glittering forest sleepers are squatting
and silvery nets bury the autumn sea

So soft is the play of the rain
that fruits of desire fall
and hands open a cross
is kissed & a knife & the thirst
is quenched with the darkest of flames


LUCEBERT
Translation/ adaptation by Guido Vermeulen
A poem from the book "van de afgrond en de luchtmens" 1953 (about the abyss and the airman"