Christian Morgenstern's collection of poems, Songs from the Gallows: Galgenlieder, is actually more fun, delightful nonsense than weird, spooky, Halloweeny, but there are a couple pieces that give me the creeps. The Moonsheep is an stuffed with images that confound, delight and freak me out.
The Moonsheep
The moonsheep stands upon the clearing.
He waits and waits to get his shearing.
The moonsheep.
The moonsheep plucks himself a blade
returning to his alpine glade.
The moonsheep.
The moonsheep murmurs in his dream:
'I am the cosmos' gloomy scheme.'
The moonsheep.
The moonsheep, in the morn, lies dead.
His flesh is white, the sun is red.
The moonsheep.
For me, the poem has the same aura, the same uneasy vibe as many of the early tunes by Current 93:
Morgenstern also takes us to a planet of flies:
At the Housefly Planet
Upon the housefly planet
the fate of the human is grim:
for what he does here to the housefly,
the fly does there unto him.
To paper with honey cover
the humans there adhere,
while others are doomed to hover
near death in vapid beer.
However, one practice of humans
the flies will not undertake:
they will not bake us in muffins
nor swallow us by mistake.
Happy Halloween!
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