Margret Silvester

No island, but.....

My garden in the sun
is a peaceful spot on a troubled earth.
In the trees hum first bumblebees,

while I pile up branches on the easter hearth

As winter dies, the melting snow
leaves as it goes on the ground below
first little greens and brownish buds
which will entwine round summerhuts.

First breakfast in the sun,
all my wishes and hopes come true,
and the winter will go for good
leaving flowers and blossoms for me and you.

 

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Published on e-Stories.org on 03/25/2017.

 

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Lied der Jahreszeiten von Margret Silvester



Wie die Erde um die Sonne kreist, wie es Tag und wieder Nacht wird, wie der Winter dem Frhling weicht, so liest sich der Sonettenkranz.

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