collection 02

half of life

with its yellow pears
and wild roses everywhere
the shore hangs into the lake,
o gracious swans,
and drunk with kisses
you dip your heads
in the sobering holy water.

ah, where will i find
flowers, come winter,
and where the sunshine
and shade of the earth?
walls stand cold
and speechless, in the wind
the wheathervanes creak.


friedrich hölderlin