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friend poem

herauf von die Wiesen reich mit Mais
seien Sie, Leben geduldig, wenn Liebe am Gatter ist
wer der Läufer in den Himmeln ist
ich brenne keinen Duft
es gibt kein Entweichen durch den Fluß
unter einem ausgebreiteten Kastaniebaum
ich gehe meine Weise complacently
und wie Sie Traum der Sitzung konnten
unter den Rauch und Nebel eines Dezembernachmittages
gestern Abend legte der Vollmond ein Tuch von Weiß

 



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