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mother poem

steigender Mond hat die Sterne versteckt
Vögel gegen den Aprilwind
unter den Bergen wandered ich
warum so traurig mein reizendes?
ich liebe mein Leben, aber nicht zu gut
ich habe daß eine bestimmte Prinzessin gehört
obwohl Lieberepine und Grundscheuern
in Ihren Armen war ruhige Freude
nicht von der breiten Welt des Ganzen
ich singe Ihnen
meine Mutter twines mich die Roses, die mit Tau naĂź sind
einmal dieser weiche Rasen

 



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