Classic Poem

D U do not have to fear. God. They say my
mallen things that are patient.
They are like wind that brushes against the branches
and says: my tree.

You hardly notice
how everything glows, what their hand grabs, -
so that it's also on his last hem
could not hold without burning.

They say my , how sometimes a like
the princes friend calls talking to farmers
when this prince is very large and very remote.
They say my foreign of its walls
and do not even know their house Lord.
You say my name and the ownership,
if every thing closes, which they draw near to
as an absurd Charlatan
might be called the sun and the flash.
So they say: my life, my wife,
my dog, my child, and know very well,
that everything: life, wife and dog and child
foreign entity are, because they blindly
encounter with their hands outstretched.
Certainty of course, this is only the Great,
which aspire to eyes. For the others
wollens not hear that her poor Hiking
rings associated with any things,
that they pushed away from their possessions,
not recognized by their Eigentume,
the woman so little have like the flower,
the one alien life is for everyone.

Not the case, God, your equilibrium.
Also loves you and of your face
recognizes the darkness when he as a light
varies in thy breath, has not you.
And if you acquired one in the night,
so that you have to come in his prayer:
You're the guest,
which continues again.

Who can hold you, God? Cause you're the,
disturbed by any owner hand,
so as of yet sophisticated wine,
which is always sweet, belongs to himself.