Emanuel Eichberg







You carry me through the night,
As endless as your beam is strong.
And carry me to lonely shores
None of them to be my home.


So forth, the millennial horse
To Metropolis, slowly wheezing smoke
Forth under hallowed neon rain
To share solitude among the crowds.


Oh how far reaches open plain
Realm of wind and grass
Oh How long flew the Eagle of the Steppe
Beyond Taiga awaits a train.


So the landscape does the passing
And the cabin is asleep
And so quietly dissolves the distance
’Til Okeanos lies lost and deep.


We weather more winds, more waves
But firm the course we keep
And weather hunger, St. Elmo’s Blaze
That still holds us from our lifeless port.


Land drawn by sharpened frost
Twisted shapes free from sort
No land, but empty blasted wastes
A final meal at mountain’s sombre range.


Terrible are those Peaks of Madness
Yet from them I feed my eyes
Virgin earth unsoiled by change,
The pole stained by brass winged gate.


Behind -, bowels of inhuman mind
Lie halls built by eldritch fate
And behind doors of forbidden boon
Black clad Knights still keep their vigil.


Deep below I catch my breath
Before I break the earthen sigil
Deep asleep lies the planet’s blazing core:
So heed the rumbles of his slumber.


I leave them, and the world behind,
This heavy sphere of wonder.
Leave for good, and even strife beyond
The Lighthouse on the solitary coast.







No more but endless night
Endless sea untouched by wind
No more sight, my eyes rest blind
Were not for the Stars, their endless light.


You carry many names across all time
Gondola they call you among the Drowned
Carry me on our endless flight
And be the tune to my sailor’s song.









Emanuel Eichberg grew up in Rome, in a German-speaking household.  He studied Literature at King’s College London.  Currently, he studies Philosophy in Switzerland, and teaches German there.  He writes poetry in German, English, and Italian.