Homesickness

The world becomes different with every step

that takes me farther away from my beloved;

my heart -- it will not go any farther with me.

Here the sun shines coldly upon the land,

here everything seems unfamiliar to me,

even the very flowers along the stream!

Every thing has

So strange a look, so wrong a face.

The streamlet murmurs well and speaks:

"Poor boy, come along beside me -

you see forget-me-nots here as well!"

Yes, they are beautiful everywhere,

but these are not anything like the ones

there.

Onward, simply onward!

My eyes spill over.