Poetry

I tower almost to the clouds
on the lookout to see you,
to be aware of your arrival
 
and at night I hang out bright lanterns
while I scout into the distance
 
are looking if I can see your star jumping
or somewhere can find a sign of your arrival
over the plains that lay far into the distance
 
and when you are far off at the horizon
then my heart is already flowering,
 
then great joy is present in the cathedral
of my eyes,
then the hall of welcome
is prepared for the banquet of our love
 
and as if I have consumed
too many bottles of champagne
you are already foaming in my veins
long before you are with me.