Do not look for the stones
in water above the mud,
the boat is gone.
No longer with nets and baskets
the river is dotted.
The sun wick,
the marsh marigold flickered out in rain.
Only the willow still bears witness,
in its roots
the secrets of tramps lie hidden,
their paltry treasures,
a rusty fishhook,
a bottle full of sand,
a tine with no bottom,
in which to preserve
conversations long forgotten.
On the boughs,
empty nests of the penduline titmice,
shoes light as birds.
No one slips them
over children's feet.
Translated by Michael Hamburger
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (Eastern River by Peter Huchel )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
Federico García Lorca
(5 June 1898 – 19 August 1936)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
- Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night, Dylan Thomas
- Still I Rise, Maya Angelou
- A Child's Christmas in Wales, Dylan Thomas
- If You Forget Me, Pablo Neruda
- Bleeding, May Swenson
- Men, Maya Angelou
- Daffodils, William Wordsworth
- I Am the Only Being Whose Doom, Emily Jane Brontë
- The Bells, Edgar Allan Poe
- Warning, Jenny Joseph
Poem of the Day
- Meditation, Aftab Alam
- Not an infant any more, Soumita Sarkar Ray
- The UKIP-topian, sociopathic delusions o.., Stanley Collymore
- Turning points., Gangadharan nair Pulingat..
- Hold, Nur Danial
- Adil Jussawalla The Man & The Poet, Bijay Kant Dubey
- I love and love and love you, my dear, gajanan mishra
- Swept The Sound in The Night, Mapung Madura
- Haiku 'leaves ', miken newman
- Much more powerful, gajanan mishra