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It stands so proud,
majestic, weighed down
uplifted by
its own history.
It's seen the slaughter
of Thomas Muenzer's men,
the fertile fields
have given thanks
and produce
to blood and its successors,
medieval times
have long been
laid to rest
all heads lopped off
the sound of swords
from Klingenthal
ring in the future.
We reminisce
each Spring and Fall
climb up the tower
of the wing
that has survived
and seen it all.
We raise our steins
in solemn silence
those days were ours
and full of promise.
Herbert Nehrlich
Read poems about / on: thanks, history, future, silence, spring
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