Autumn
 
 
The gifts of summer I carried home
in my basket, apples, which the storm
had drawn from the tree.
The last quarter of life
is there with its full beauty.
Life´s lines have dug themselves
in the face. There are streets,
which life has printed in good and bad times,
signs of life. Carry your head proudly high,
that time was good. The love of the partner ripened
like a beautiful apple, which spring bore.
It enchants life´s last quarter.
The departure for a distant land
shove out, if you can. Hold fast in your heart
the faithful bond, and hope for life
In the distant land, where your love remains.
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poems