Der letzte Kranich vom Angerburger Moor [English translation]

The morning fog

lingers on the shoreline,

and my canoe glides

quietly through reed and pipe.

White woolgrass flowers

dancing in the breeze,

and a shadow flies

in the sky above me.

The last crane

from the Angerburger Moor

glides in his sad circle,

as if he cries,

like a proud King

without a kingdom

and he peers toward his

unseen enemy

The sunbeams

fall upon the lake,

and the water shimmers

dulled from oil and tar.

The big gray

bird flies alone,

but death flies

behind like his shadow.