Der alte Winter

Der alte Winter in seiner Schwäche zog sich in raue Berge zurueck.
Von daher sendet er - fliehend nur
ohnmächtige Schauer körnigen Eises in Streifen über die grünende Flur.
Doch die Sonne duldet kein Weisses.
Ueberall regt sich Bildung und Streben,
alles will sie mit Farben beleben.
Doch an Blumen fehlt's im Revier,
sie nimmt geputzte Menschen dafür.

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The Winter old and weak ascends back to the rugged mountain slope.
From there, as he flees, he downward sends an impotent shower of icy hail
Streaking over the verdant vale.
Ah! but the Sun will suffer no white,
Growth and formation stir everywhere,
Twould fain with colours make all things bright,
Though in the landscape are no blossoms fair.
Instead it takes gay-decked humanity.

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This weekend I asked a friend via a text message what he is looking forward to during this Easter-weekend. He answered 'I am looking forward to my very own Easter walk'. He was one of the guys reciting Goethe's poem in the park in the summer of 2005 together with me and I know he can still remember it, too.
I hope he had a peaceful walk beyond 'der Strassen quetschender Enge'.