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It was as if the skies
had kissed this Mother Earth
so that her sparkling eyes
gave rise to precious birth.
A breeze drifts through the fields,
tall stalks sway softly, bright.
The dark of forests yields
a clear and star-lit night.
My soul daring to roam
flew up on gentle wings,
past castles of strange kings,
pretending to go home.
As Heaven was my goal,
when clinging to its back,
in clouds I lost my soul
and God found, it was black.
Now, hurled down to the ground,
condemned, forever banished,
there was a moon-lit sound
and all the stars had vanished.
Today I sleep in heather,
in meadows during nights,
and pray for stormy weather
to douse those star-lit nights.
Herbert Nehrlich
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