The earth hangs down <br />to the lake, full of yellow <br />pears and wild roses. <br />Lovely swans, drunk with <br />kisses you dip your heads <br />into the holy, sobering waters. <br /> <br />But when winter comes, <br />where will I find <br />the flowers, the sunshine, <br />the shadows of the earth? <br />The walls stand <br />speechless and cold, <br />the weathervanes <br />rattle in the wind.<br /><br />Friedrich Holderlin<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/at-the-middle-of-life/
