With yellow pears
And full of wild roses
Hangs the land in the lake,
You fair swans,
And drunk with kisses
Dunk her head
Into the holy sober water.

Woe to me, where do I take when
It is winter, the flowers, and where
The sunshine,
And the shadow of the earth?
The walls stand
Speechless and cold, in the wind
The flags are clinking.


(F. Hölderlin)