The margins of the forest are beautiful, <br />as if painted onto the green slopes. <br />I walk around, and sweet peace <br />rewards me for the thorns <br />in my heart, when the mind has grown <br />dark, for right from the start <br />art and thinking have cost it pain. <br />There are lovely pictures in the valley, <br />for example the gardens and trees, <br />and the narrow footbridge, and the brook, <br />hardly visible. How beautifully <br />the landscape shines, cheerfully distant, <br />like a splendid picture, where I come <br />to visit when the weather is mild. <br />A kindly divinity leads us on at first <br />with blue, then prepares clouds, <br />shaped like gray domes, with <br />searing lightning and rolling thunder, <br />then comes the loveliness of the fields, <br />and beauty wells forth from <br />the source of the primal image.<br /><br />Friedrich Holderlin<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/out-for-a-walk/
