There are many deep and sad, even some morbid poems about autumn in German. They are often considered amongst the most beautiful of German poems, which says something about Germans, I suppose. The title of this post is actually the start of one of the most wellknown poems of all time about autumn by Rainer Maria Rilke: “Herr, es ist Zeit.”
Octobersong
The rising fog, the falling leaves:
to wine we are beholden!
The grayish day no longer grieves:
it's golden, yes, it's golden!
Der Nebel steigt, es fällt das Laub;
Schenk ein den Wein, den holden!
Wir wollen uns den grauen Tag
Vergolden, ja vergolden!
Theodor Storm (1817-1888)

Ich sah den Wald sich färben,
Die Luft war grau und stumm;
Mir war betrübt zum Sterben,
Und wusst’ es kaum, warum.
I saw the woods change colour,
the air was mute and grey;
I felt aggrieved, I felt like dying
and hardly knew for why.
Emanuel Geibel (1815-1884)

Little Aster
A drowned drayman was hoisted on to the slab.
Someone had jammed a lavender aster
between his teeth.
As I made the incision up from the chest
with a long knife
under the skin
to cut out tongue and gums,
I must have nudged it because it slipped
into the brain lying adjacent.
I packed it into the thoracic cavity
with the excelsior
when he was sewn up.
Drink your fill in your vase!
Rest easy,
little aster!
Kleine Aster
Ein ersoffener Bierfahrer wurde auf den Tisch gestemmt.
lrgendeiner hatte ihm eine dunkelhellila Aster
zwischen die Zähne geklemmt.
Als ich von der Brust aus
unter der Haut
mit einem langen Messer
Zunge und Gaumen herausschnitt,
muß ich sie angestoßen haben, denn sie glitt
in das nebenliegende Gehirn.
Ich packte sie ihm in die Brusthöhle
zwischen die Holzwolle,
als man zunähte.
Trinke dich satt in deiner Vase!
Ruhe sanft,
kleine Aster!
Gottfried Benn 1886-1956
Too morbid? Let’s end with an American author and a simple quote:

"Autumn leaves don't fall, they fly. They take their time and wander on this, their only chance to soar."
Delia Owens, Where the Crawdads Sing
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Fabulous poems and accompanying photos Elke 😀
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Only from the best German poetry (but in translations, I’m sorry).
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Worked OK for me
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Yes, Kleine Aster is rather too morbid. But your photos are delights.
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When Benn wrote the poem he was fresh out of medical school (and hours in the morgue) and also young and wanted to shock.
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You’re right that the German poems are sad and even morbid. But perhaps, in their culture the end of summer and start of winter is not that welcome. Loved your quote about leaves flying and not falling.
Thanks for joining in.
PS- I don’t know your name, and if it’s okay, can you share it here?
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My wordpress name is “eklastic” and my given name is hidden in that, kind of. It’s Elke and yes, I have no problem sharing it.
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Thanks Elke. I appreciate your trust.
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😊
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😍
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I have read Rilke in the past, and a tad morbid at times!
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Rilke is okay, I think, very cerebral. Now Gottfried Benn is a different kettle of fish, his first poetry cycle is called “Morgue” (he was still in or fresh out of medical school at the time, so he writes from personal experience).
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Gottfried Benn is not one I’m familiar with
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He never got the Nobel Prize was nominated 5 times. He received the Büchner Preis, the most important literature prize in Germany. But of course, the fame (or not) of poets rises and falls with the quality of the translations.
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Yes, the quality of translations is paramount
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