THE WALK
You, beautiful forests
painted on the green slope,
where I walk sometimes
compensated with sweet peace
for every thorn in my heart,
how sombre for me is the sense,
for art and sense were Pain,
from the beginning.
Sweet images of the valley,
such as gardens and tree
and the path, too, narrow,
the stream barely visible,
how beautiful it shines for someone,
in the clear distance,
the great image of the landscape
I visit, on the auspicious days!
Divinity, friendly,
does not primarily escort
with blue; then with clouds
disposed, vaulted and  grey,
with ardent flashes
and the heavy sound of thunder,
with the charm of the landscape,
with beauty, streaming forth
from the fountain of the ancient,
from the primitive image.

Helmut Dorner