Poem Whose First Stanza Is Martin Heidegger on Georg Trakl

The morning too has its twilight.
The day rising in twilight,
Evening then is also a rising.
Clarity sheltered in the dark is blueness.
Like a boat that does not reach
The pond’s surface
The dead do not rise.
Their pain is appeased.
They lie in a silver grove,
The pallor of death, the sparkle
Of the stars. The soul apart
Softly wanders
In the landscape.
If all but landscape shakes in modesty,
Inglorious, the human condition
Light as air
Forgotten against the cliffs,
And trouble glints
Off sides of scattered rock,
All together the world,
Our modest bodies,
Is not modest.
Passage of the sun still favors
The whole object