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graduation poem

ich starrte den prachtvollen Himmel an
Welt, die unter meiner Hand ändert
einmal dieser weiche Rasen
hoch-getragenes Rennen
sind Sie wach?
eins nach dem anderen wie verläßt von einem Baum
sind sie traurig, die nicht Liebe kennen
gegen die grĂĽne Flamme des WeiĂźdorn-Baums
wer den Regen liebt
was wir jetzt tut
hören Sie den Regen?

 



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