By: Eduard Schmidt-Zorner
Clear and austere stands the embracing air;
trees stretch their bronze-gold branches,
wine winds purple chains around the walls,
prematurely falling leaves
rustle on the narrow path.
Sweetly suffused by apples’ scent,
so rich and ripe this summer's end,
shining like a last bouquet of flowers,
announcing early autumn days.
The wounds of life are burning,
no herb can ever heal.
Hard strikes the hand of death,
but lays to rest a tired man.
Sombre behind the treetops
fades the last afterglow.
Life’s burden, it weighs heavily;
it almost seems to me
it's even easier to die,
Eduard Schmidt-Zorner is a translator and writer of poetry, haibun, haiku and short stories.
He writes in four languages: English, French, Spanish and German and holds workshops on Japanese and Chinese style poetry and prose.
Member of four writer groups in Ireland and lives in County Kerry, Ireland, for more than 25 years and is a proud Irish citizen, born in Germany.
Published in 85 anthologies, literary journals and broadsheets in USA, UK, Ireland, Japan, Sweden, Italy, Bangladesh, India, France, Mauritius, Nigeria and Canada.