Of Oak and Rose

Thou comest in silence. Of all my revelations
Thou art the most true one, for thou lovest with silence.
In Thine eyes the light of the amber shines
And the shadows of ancient Roman Gods.

Oh, Flower, grown on the highland meadows,
Thou dost not fear the rain nor the fury of thunder!
I am as an oak, Thou - wrapped in darkness -
Art similar to the beautiful black rose.

The cloud of time is floating above us.
In the valley the wind decorates the trees with coldness.
We are lasting - the two of us - in the soft, white mist.

The worlds disappear, the stars run into the nothingness,
The hard mountain soil smells with the night already.
I fall into Thee. Thou entwinest me.

20th of September 2012