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retirement poem

es gibt eine Stunde des ruhigen Restes
dunkelstes, merkwürdigstes Geheimnis
von unseren versteckten Plätzen
ihr Gesicht ist angemessen und glatt und fein
schauen Sie heraus nach den Sternen, meine Liebe
der Schnee whispers über mich
ihr schönes Haar
vor tausend leisen Jahren
Standplatz hier durch meine Seite
in können Sie
ich bot sie aller Abschied
in den mournful Zahlen
alle werfen die Jahre nieder
lassen Sie einen Freudenunterhalt Sie

 



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