Across The Fields Poem by Hermann Hesse
Across The Fields
Across the sky, the clouds move,
Across the fields, the wind,
Across the fields the lost child
Of my mother wanders.
Across the street, leaves blow,
Across the trees, birds cry --
Across the mountains, far away,
My home must be.
...Across the mountains, far away, My home must be... beautiful.
Ooo Ahh 'JR', your translation alters the poem dramatically, but thanks for it just the same. Is there truly so much scope for interpretation, as appears?
A different and, I think, better translation of this poem appeared in Poor Old Tired Horse No.16. The translator was Lesley Lendrum it reads 'Clouds blow across the sky and the wind across the field across the field wanders my mother's lost child Leaves fly across the path across the trees the birds fly somewhere across the hills my far off home must be'
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4/23/2024 8:26:39 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Attraverso il cielo, scorrono le nuvole, Attraverso i campi, il vento, Per i campi il bambino smarritto Di mia madre si aggira. Da una parte all'altra della strada svolazzano foglie, Da un albero all'altro, le grida degli uccelli - Oltre le montagne, lontano, Deve esserci la mia casa.