Touching Loreley
by Sven Kloepping
Seconds running down the hill
Stones are staring, waiting still
For this lady, and her fatal will
Waters, looking up again
Again, again, they never can
Touch this lady, touch this man
A road is splitting the magical ban
Standing on the road between
I see the waters, never clean
I feel the stone walls, where I lean
The stones are grey, the waters green
Seconds falling on my shoulder
Waters, youthful, growing older
Wind is blowing, wilder, colder
Like an invisible soldier
Does he want to fill the sky?
Does he want to scream and cry?
Is he strong, or just too shy?
Who, oh who brings back my Loreley?
© 2000 Sven Kloepping
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