Margarete Münsterberg, ed., trans. A Harvest of German Verse. 1916.
By Christmas in AjaccioKonrad Ferdinand Meyer (18251898)
O
And the lizard flit along the wall, in sunlight glowing.
There is here no border, sharply youth and age dividing.
In a sweet entanglement the train of hours flies hither.
Dear, ’tis by a spring that you are richer, and a bright one!
And for home you’re longing, where they long ago have faded?
Tell me what your eyes are dreaming? Of the snowflakes falling?