Der Freund - The Friend (excerpt)
Not only the ripening fruit, but also the flowers are beautiful.
Whether the fruit serves the flower or the flower the fruit only — who knows?
Yet both are given to us. Costly, rare blooms — sprung from the freedom of the playful, brave, and trusting spirit in a happy hour — such is the friend to the friend.
Playful, at first, on the far journeys of the spirit, into wonderful, distant realms, which in the haze of the morning sun glitter like gold; but in the heat of the day are by thin clouds in a blue sky encompassed; while in the stirrings of the night, lit only by the lamp, like hidden private treasures, they beckon the seeker.
My soul, my heart, my mind is Yours
In love, in truth, completely Yours
Delighted I am a captive
Yes
Captive of my own volition.
If I must walk to work, it feels a burden.
Yet, when I perambulate,
My load is lighter;
I am free.
I read yet cannot comprehend.
I hear yet do not understand.
My senses dull, beyond repair.
Inhumanity’s effluvium.
I smell; I cannot stand.
Eyes well with unspent tears.
Mind whirls with unspoken fears.
She reaches out.
Cries aloud.
…
Echoes in distant archipelago.
In languor ‘neath the willow tree;
A pleasant thought occurred to me:
‘If all the flowers could run free;
Imagine the kaleidoscope you’d see.’
