I ran after the sun
along the river
where in the morning
the flowers look at themselves in the mirror
bathing the petals
in the water
coloured with light,
spreading stems
in the wind,
as sails on the sea.
I ran after it among blades of grass
that touch the sky,
among voices and sweet smells
of green meadows
in spring.
Under the lime tree branches
above concealed dens
close to stinging brambles
in hidden ditches
beyond the little lake
near frightened foxes
away from curious hawks
I ran after the sun
without stopping
to see it disappearing
slowly slowly
in front of me
on the hill.

16. 1. '15