Castle Boncourt

I shake my graying head

as dreams of childhood

I thought long forgotten

engulf me.

A gleaming palace rises

out of a shady bank of hedges.

I recognize its towers, the battlements

and stone bridge, the gate.

From the coat of arms

the lions look benevolently down on me.

I greet my old friends

and rush into the courtyard.

The sphinx is there beside the fountain

and the fig tree is in bloom.

The windows where I dreamed

my earliest dreams are still there.

I enter the chapel

and look for the graves of my ancestors.

The old armor

is hanging there

and light reflected

from a hundred slivers

of glass

surrounds me.

So you are once again real in my thoughts,

palace of my ancestors.

You disappeared from the earth

and the plough covered you.

Be fruitful, o dear earth,

I give to you my blessings,

and also to the one

who now guides the plough over you.

I must gather up

my lyre

and traverse the wide, wide world

singing from land to land.