At Tower's Edge Poem by Wolfgang Steinmann

At Tower's Edge

I stand atop the tower's high sill,
Engulfed in the cry of the crane,
And like a fury I let the chill
Rip through my wallowing mane.
O wild companion, o crazy fop,
I want to embrace you in strife,
And, tendon on tendon, two steps from the drop
Fight you for death or life!

And below I see at the shore, as fresh
As playing puppies, the tide
Frolic about with yelps and a crash
And glistening flakes rush aside.
O, into the midst of the howling pack
I'd love to jump in a splash,
And through the coral woods I'd track
The walrus, the playful catch.

And yonder I see a banner waft
Brazen as flying colors,
See from my perch so well aloft
The keel adrift in the horrors.
O, let me hold the rudder and sit,
In the ship, it's tossing stern,
And glide across the roaring pit
Just like a soaring tern.

If I was a hunter roaming free,
And like a soldier knew how to fight,
If I at least a man could be
Heaven would give me my right.
But like a good child I have to bear
It dainty and ever stale,
And only secretly loosen my hair
And let it flow in the gale!

(After the German Original: Am Turme by Annette von Droste-Hülshoff)

Sunday, July 31, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: fighter
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