1.
For twenty years I gambled
with books instead of cards;
for twenty years I gambled
and I squandered my life.
Poor now I lie down here
to listen to an easy wisdom
which an old plane tree
whispers to me.
2.
Free from everything I want
to sail to the end of the world.
If I have any friend left,
he should flee, escape.
And when death demands
the wealth Ive amassed,
you, my vast bitterness,
will be my only estate.
3.
You told me about your life,
about the loss of youth,
about our love which cries
over its own death,
and while in your eyes,
the hint of a tear glinted
briefly, through the open window
bright sunlight entered.
4.
Why do I squander my days
one after another?
And as my hair grays
so the wine turns sour.
Only when I gaze
through a crystal glass
filled with fresh retsina,
does my life look golden.
5.
Before life abroad could do so,
night had already separated us
from everyone we love.
(Are they all there on the pier?)
Blow your whistle, ship, were late.
And if we approach our destination,
hold up for a while, then
blow your whistle so we can finally disembark.
6.
Poplars, giants fixed
here on the road-side,
my trees, youve agreed to let
the north wind take your leaves.
Youre still the shadow of shadows
cascading across my brow
while I walk the ground below
and the moon is up on high.
7.
Joy! The Joy! Ah the joy of young
children! They capture that girl
life and bind her--these handsome,
dark highwaymen--and make love to her.
But your book is always open,
a breeze flips its pages.
Fool, fool, youve grown old
without ever being young.
8.
--Poet, my laughter flows
like honey and scorn, but you
never stop beating out
your crown of sounds.
--Girl, I work in vain
but what use is the barren
and wordless vanity
of your agate eye?
9.
Farewell! Farewell! Youve gone
with your heavenly eyes
and with flowers around your neck,
you fair hopes for new loves.
Farewell, and you--the one
who looked back when all the rest
had vanished--you saw me again
taking the deep dark road.
10.
Bronze gypsy--tralala!--
skips wildly over there, filled
with joy because hes worked
his bronze all day long,
and because he has his wife,
his property and realm.
Bronze gypsy--tralala!--
gives a kick to the sun!
