Gegenwart, part one.

Gegenwart

As the cold wind on Europe blows
and black stone stares at me
it seems as the present
is the only hope between
the dry tomb of the past
and the dim banquet of the future.

Kings and Queens
quickly forgotten,
stone and wind longing out there
immortal, and the realm of man
always victorious even in loss.

Silver and gold,
silent witnesses
of these hard times,
number and write the lives of man.

I'm one again, in all my pieces
like the clouds that linger
on a northern day.



[Trier, 03-04/2016]