Poems ✍️

Sleep does not come in silent nights
while thoughts of my dear Fatherland
buzz through my mind like moth-kissed lights
as if my tears could understand
how precious years have come and gone
and how I've missed her wrinkled face.
The squeeze of time lets me go on,
a spring wakes up my heartfelt pace.
Old woman, mother, do not fear,
from Southern Seas I call your name,
it will be soon that you shall hear,
your photo smiles in that small frame.
I have the letters that you sent,
each line penned by your shaky fingers
this picture postcard here is meant
to cheer you, as the image lingers.
The times for me have been quite tough,
one must collect material treasure,
but soon I may have just enough
to visit you, oh what a pleasure!
The land itself, that of my birth
will last forever, it has health,
and only one thing on this earth
pulls me away from foreign wealth.
I saw how names have all been listed
in columns of the local news
and no one figures out how twisted
cold destiny fills someone's shoes.
I hear the churchbell at the harbour
and feel your raindrops on my skin
your smile surprises at the barber,
but, now and then, the Devil's grin
appears, it floats and hops around,
it stares at me, your son, so brave
and makes me scan the fertile ground
where they would dig, for you, a grave.
I ask you, captain, steer this ship
full steam and more, just straight ahead,
a prayer rests upon my lip
dear God, my mother may be dead.
Soaked from the storm and frightened by
much angry lightning at the Rhine,
we make our way past grapes of wine
and stop beneath the Lorelei.
Oh, yes, she sits up on the tip
of granite stone, with golden hair,
with grace she smiles down to our ship,
a maiden, proud, beyond compare.
And as we hurry on she waves,
a sign for fishermen to drown.
How foolish is the man who braves
in moonlit streams the Devil's frown.
The anchor drops, the house in sight.
Up on the balcony she stands.
The stars are here to lend their light,
I have come home, from foreign lands.