Poems and Songs

The Larch and the Pine

A dark, sturdy pine and a fair graceful larch

Grew on the banks of a clear mountain stream.

Over the water their boughs made an arch:

There they remained in a comradely dream.

Nothing came near but the fox and the deer,

Sometimes a fisherman casting his line.

Always the murmur of water would cheer

The fair, graceful larch and the dark, sturdy pine.

When the wind lifted the larch would be gay

Tossing her delicate sprays in the sun.

Sighing, the motionless pine tree would say

“Soon, pretty larch, will your dancing be done.”

Then came the winter; the larch tree was bare,

Trembling and cold in the pitiless blast.

Shouting defiance the pine would declare

“Courage, dear sister, it soon will be past.”

So, through the seasons their destinies twine.

Often I see them when hillwards I roam.

Long may they flourish, the larch and the pine,

Long, ages long, after I have gone home.

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