yet to the land of pyramids

the storks fled high above the sea and shore;
swallows’ flight

has passed and parted,

the lark also not chanting anymore.

sighing in a hidden sorrow

the wind grazes the going green;
and the so-sweet summer-days

ah..they have passed by

and they have been!

fog devoured the forest that has seen your best-protected beatitude;  
quite in scent and dawns fair world wants its mood.
only once again the sun through the fragrance irresistable can break,
and a beam of old- known bliss 
trickles over valley and the cleft and lake.

and gleaming woods and heath that one may guess and cling, behind all winter-hurt lies afar a day of spring.


(c)opyright k.stein nach th. storm ‘herbst’