Goethe - Poem by Herbert Nehrlich
It was his mother,
and powdered Camomille,
at tea, with Frau Charlotte.
'The lad will soon commence,
I'm telling you in confidence,
constructing verse and rhyme,
I've seen the light inside his eyes,
a teacher always knows.'
Inside the cubbyhole he crouched,
a frog in a cigarbox being fed
fresh insects from the garden.
It was applied biology for frog and boy.
He overheard the idle talk
between his mother and the teacher.
And was thus scripted for a life,
that would produce a treasury
of immortal poetry for all.
Comments about Goethe by Herbert Nehrlich
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
Mary Elizabeth Frye
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You