Inge Offermann

Winding Road

We drive on the winding road,
where trees seem reaching the sky.
We drive on the endless road
on which we will also die.
 
Our dreams fly to the hills
where they may flowers find.
The wind blows up the seed
trying our sorrow to grind.
 
But some cores fall to the ground
and will grow up to blooming trees
along the endless winding road
where grief and fortune live.
 
 
 
Gewundene Straße
 
Wir fahren auf gewundener Straße,
wo  Bäume fast zum Himmel reichen.
Wir fahren auf endloser Straße,
auf der wir auch sterben werden.
 
Unsere Träume fliegen zu Hügeln,
wo sie Blumen finden können.
Der Wind weht die Saat auf,
welche unsere Sorgen zerstreut.
 
Einige Kerne aber fallen zu Boden
und erwachsen zu blühenden Bäumen
an der endlos gewundenen Straße,
wo Trauer und Glück wohnen.
 

© Inge Hornisch

 

All rights belong to its author. It was published on e-Stories.org by demand of Inge Offermann.
Published on e-Stories.org on 24.09.2011.

 

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