Uncle Albert's Poems: page Ten

Where are you, my Goddess,
I cannot hear you - I cannot see you -
Are you really there,
Or just a dream figure conjured up by my desires?

There are times when I feel a deep embedded warmth within me,
A feeling of love that goes beyond human love,
And yet... ,
And yet,
Is it all but a dream, and illusion?
An image long buried deep in my soul?

Ah, my love, my Goddess,
Why are you not here?
My arms reach out for you,
My soul cries out for you.
But the day is cold and empty,
And within me an icy coldness sinks down,
And I despair
For there is nothing here
To cheer me.

If you exist, o my Goddess,
Reach down to me now,
And touch my soul.
I am so lonely here.

I searched the star of love
To find the lonely heart,
Nut found none; sadly, sadly,
To the earth I did depart.
I lost the star I hid
Within a now cold home
And sadly I depart
Lost evermore to roam.

My brain screams halt!
My heart is torn and bleeds
That madness like this
Was not one of my needs.

Let me fade in the wind and breeze over the land,
A lost mad wild dreamer by a black madness manned.
The night is not yet over,
The day is never here;
The stars are hidden deep in
A large jug of old beer.
Their secrets are ours, drink.
Across the sinking plain stream the Riders once again,
And in the bright-lit tavern their fearful tale is told,
And the stranger dining there wondering will stare
As the Riders race past window to the capital of old.
Beneath the windswept hair the death-filled eyes hard stare,
And silent grows the tavern at innkeeper's whispered word,
The horses noiseless snort at the reins so tightly caught
And from their steel-shod drumming hooves no sound is ever heard.
To the shore beyond the hill the Riders gallop still,
They ride, their horses' eyes aflame and lips afoam - no sound
From rider's tight-pressed lips as hoof on stone sharp slips,
And they thunder soundless on over well-coursed stony ground.
Closer draws the hearer as the Riders gallop nearer;
Their Emperor to warn they race across the beach,
The sinking lands to save, ride into foaming grave,
And doomed the flooding city ne'er to reach.
Chill shudder shivers icy through the watching tavern room
For the Riders of Irina ride again to meet their doom.
Ich hör' das Lied erklingen,
Es erhallen die Worten kaum,
Mir ist's, als ob die Liebe
Ist lauter Trug und Traum.

Sing froh ein Ständchen,
Graues Elephäntchen.