The crossing

Many years ago

I crossed this same stream.

There shines the castle in the sunset,

There runs the weir, as always.

And in this boat with me

There were two companions:

One, a friend, like a father to me,

The other young and full of hope.

The first led a quiet life,

And thus did he also pass away;

The other stormed ahead of us all,

And fell in storm and battle.

So if I of past days,

Happier days, dare to think,

I always miss my dear friends,

Whom death has ripped from me.

But that which binds all friendship

Is the finding of kindred spirit,

Those hours were of the spirit,

To those spirits am I yet bound.

Take then, Ferryman, take the toll,

Which I gladly pay threefold:

Two, which cross over with me

Are spirit in nature.