At The Middle Of Life
The earth hangs down
to the lake, full of yellow
pears and wild roses.
Lovely swans, drunk with
kisses you dip your heads
into the holy, sobering waters.
But when winter comes,
where will I find
the flowers, the sunshine,
the shadows of the earth?
The walls stand
speechless and cold,
rattle in the wind.
Friedrich Holderlin's Other Poems
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Comments about this poem (At The Middle Of Life by Friedrich Holderlin )
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