When finally they lowered the coffin here

When finally they lowered the coffin here,

and lifted the lid one last time -

In that moment I saw

how the sun was just about to set.

Lit by the sunset's reddish glow

I saw all those faces just one more time,

The steeple, high above in the golden serenity,

A flash it was - and then they closed the lid again.

Between the brief opening and closing I saw

How the surrounding graves were covered by March snow;

Since then there must have been a change in the weather,

As moisture's filtering through the thin casket walls.

I hear a creaking sound, as if softly

Slates of winter ice come loose;

I, poorest spring's friend that I am, also wake

And cannot move a limb in the dark night!

Like seeds that swell up mightily,

Like seedlings, craving the warm sun,

I stretch my body, this prisoner,

But all my sad efforts are in vain!

Above me, don't they hear the loud beating

Of my heart that longs to blossom here?

They do not know how it is deep down

And no divining rod points to this blood!

Even if, by chance, an old fellow

Came sneaking along, digging for treasures and water,

His tiny rod, poking only for money and fortunes,

Would never feel the warm red well.