Little story

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A troop's little banner suffered great distress,
for half was yellow, the other half red
and it wanted very much
to burn as one bright flame instead.

It pulled, it writhed, it waved,
it crumpled and it whipped --
in vain it was unlucky,
for the seam was always ripped.

Suddenly came a cloudburst
and washed it from hither to yon,
that the red and yellow bled,
as so together were frawn.

The men under that banner
did not clearly understand,
but in as much as they did,
the world has now forgotten that little band.


Übersetzung ins Englische von
Gary Bachlund
Übersetztes Gedicht
Kleine Geschichte