Hartmut Hecker : Dotima to Hyperion

I've locked myself in most of the time since you left, dear Hyperion! Today I was outside again.
In the mild February air I have collected life and bring you what has been collected. It also did me good, the fresh warming of the sky, I still felt it, the new bliss of the plant world, the pure, always the same, where everything mourns and rejoices in its time.

Hyperion! oh my Hyperion! why don't we also go the quiet paths of life? They are holy names, winter and spring and summer and autumn! but we don't know them. Isn't it a sin to mourn in spring? why do we do it anyway?
Forgive me! the children of the earth live by the sun alone; I live through you, I have other joys, is it a miracle when I have other sorrow? and do I have to mourn? do I have to?

Braver! Dear! should I wither when you shine should my heart wear out when the lust for victory awakens in all your sinews?

It seems to me as if it were hardly from yesterday, that magical evening when the holy stranger met me for the first time, when, like a grieving genius, he shines into the shadows of the forest where the carefree girl sat in her childhood dream - in the He came in the air, in Jonien's magical air of mail, and she makes him more blooming, she curls his hair, unfolds his lips like flowers, dissolves the sadness in a smile and oh her radiance of heaven! How do you shine on me from these eyes, from these intoxicating springs, where life shimmers and surges forever in the shadow of the arc around! -