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Landscapephotography - Sunset

Here I lie on the spring hill the cloud becomes my wing a bird flies ahead of me. Oh, tell me, only love, where you stay that I stay with you! But you and the air, you have no house. ***

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I see the cloud moving and the river
the sun's golden kiss penetrates
with deep into the blood;
the eyes, wonderfully intoxicated,
pretend to fall asleep
only the ear of the bee listens.


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I think this and think that
I long and don't really know what.
It is half pleasure, half lamentation;
my heart, oh say
What memories do you weave?
in golden green branches twilight?
Old, nameless days!


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