Mother's sons
Georg Philipp Telemann
You people, who must take pains
to journey day and night,
through heat and frost, through ice and iron,
drawn almost against death,
oh come and make it also as beautiful,
as tender as mother's sons!
They lie beside their dear mother
on a soft bearskin,
and grow well with good feeding,
like the houseleek and knabenkraut;
they need only time
before they can serve a woman!