The Wümme that meanders
through meadows and peat
branches as it travels
and flooded, was to treat.
She sings a song
completely inaudible and very softly
sets under water more a meadow
so broadened her kingdom kindly.
On the north arm she was dammed up at the gate
you then had to move
because here they built their new way
was to reach her now, to prove.
The Wümme was further
even the mighty river
In the spring, as she went wider
to the chagrin of the dam, you bet a fiver.
There was then a new bridge
a little way down near-shore
but where the old barrage was
there was the old world even more.
(c) All rights reserved
Floy Dy Ra,19.12.2013
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem