Queen of the Shepherds

Oh Queen of the Shepherds


***


Village girls

What did I drink? 

Kneeling in that heather

By the tender hazelwood 

Encircled In the tepid 

Green fog of afternoon

What could I drink? 

In that young Lazy River


— Elms voiceless, grass deflowered, an overcast sky! 

—Drink from these yellow gourds

Far from my cherished Little hut

Some golden liquor sweats me dry

Seemed a cock-eyed signboard for an inn

 —A storm came chasing the sky


Night at hand

Woodland water lost in virginal sands

God’s wind hurled icicles onto the ponds

Weeping, I saw the gold—and could not drink 

At four in the morning, summer

The slumber of love still endures 


Under the greenery’s shade 

Evening’s festive scent evaporates

Down there, in their vast lumberyard 

Under the sun of Hesperides

Carpenters are already hard At work

—in their rolled-up shirtsleeves

Tranquil, in their mossgrown Wilderness 

They dress the precious canopy 

Where the city Will daub false heavens


O for these Workers! Charming men

Subjects of a king from Babylon Venus! 

Leave Lovers for a moment 

Whose souls are crowned

Oh Queen of the Shepherds

Bring these craftsmen a little brandy 

To put their muscles at ease 

Before their noontide swim in the sea


*** 


David Arndt 2022


*** 

Artwork Johann Baptist Hofner



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