Elegy

Sadly I ride like Don Quixote
On the thorny paths of poetry
For the cheerful note is missing
And I find that quite a pity

And my horse, whether I named it
Pegasus or Rosinante
Feels the pain of the time in its hindquarters
And clearly senses it wants to be winter.

Will it remain like this,
Will my singing always be sad,
Will I write elegies
All my life, gloomy and eerie!

Nothing but endlessly gray sky,
Hopelessly long rainfalls,
Resultless battles,
Lonely and desolate prison cell.

Yes, time is like a wall,
That one cannot overcome,
It seems endless to me,
And no way out shows itself.

As if our souls
Were dipped in black sauce,
Constantly feeling dark torment,
Feeling at a dead end

Everything has conspired today
To ruin our mood,
Hitler has lost Belgrade,
Oh, that might please the Serbs,

The distance of a thousand miles
Powerfully hinders my joys
I almost can‘t avoid
Crying from sadness.

Belgrade is much too eastern for me
And therefore cannot comfort me,
Only events in the West
Would be consoling for me today

Should I now hang my head
And break under this time,
No, I must contradict myself
And force myself to gather courage

Like with Münchhausen‘s post horn
Once the sounds were frozen,
Only in the tavern did they thaw
To the astonishment of all ears

So will after the passage of these times,
Where joy must freeze,
It happens that my strings
Produce cheerful sounds.