Unresting Wayfarer
(Ricardo Hoffmann)

The awakening red dome of glass
Creates the day in times of morning dew
And the night receives its fulfilment
While the deer looks up lighthearted
Cheerful in liveliness at the forest’s glades
Without fear for its huntsmen

The fields are wet and misty is the ground
And you cry like the insatiable child
Who receives his meal of unsatisfaction
Down in the village the daylife sounds clear
And shimmering lights fill longing windows

Now the evening is waiting
With furtive glances like every day
The flying vermin dies of the autumnal cold
And the birds scream high and greedy
Like the prettiness of all the existing lovers
Where are the paths and the flows of our youth

I’m a wayfarer
Without beginning
Trail or destination
And a suitcase filled with burdens
The yearning, today’s morning dew
My desire
The lament of night...