The Legend of SPRINGWATER

1991 hielt der Herr Rader in der Anglistischen Bibliothek der Universität Erlangen einen alten verstaubten Band über keltische Mythologie in der Hand, in der er von einem Land der ewigen Jugend las, in dem Elfen tanzen und singen und gerne mal einen Sänger dorthin entführen. Dieses Land sollte in der englischen Übersetzung "Springwater" genannt werden. Einige Jahre und unzählige Pints Guinness und Single Malt Whiskys später machte sich der Herr Rader wieder auf den Weg dorthin, um seine Entdeckung noch mal mit dem Verstand eines mittlerweile erwachsenen Mannes zu überprüfen und fand... nichts. In besagter Mythensammlung stand kein einziger Hinweis mehr auf Springwater. So verschwindet die Legende des Herrn Rader in den Nebeln seiner Erinnerung... und taucht vielleicht in hundert Jahren für einen Tag wieder auf.

Wind and rain and wind and rain and wind and rain and wind and rain...

When I was young I roamed the land playing guitar for pints and dimes.
One evening by the fireside a stranger came and joined my company.

He sang so bright, he sang so sweet, he sang like from another world.
Said I, "Where did you learn those songs?" Said he, "I learned them from SPRINGWATER -
Right! They´re coming from SPRINGWATER!"

So where are you? Fol de toora loo!
Riding, flying, sailing?
Cry and shout - there is no way out,
And who shall hear you wailing?
Yeah, who shall hear your wailing?

We roamed together for a while and he taught me all he knew,
But - strange, I never saw him smile, even when the crowd was cheering.

The night was cold, the winds did blow. He said, "My friend, now I must part.
I´ve got to pay back what I owe and my soul I owe to SPRINGWATER -
I´ve got to go now to SPRINGWATER!"

So where are you? Fol de toora loo!
Riding, flying, sailing?
Cry and shout - there is no way out,
And who shall hear you wailing?
Yeah, who shall hear your wailing?

Wind and rain and wind and rain and wind and rain and wind and rain...

So I sing those wondrous songs, but I know where my story ends:
One day they´ll call out for my soul, then I´ll have to go to SPRINGWATER -
That day I will see SPRINGWATER!

So where are you? Fol de toora loo!
Riding, flying, sailing?
Cry and shout - there is no way out,
And who shall hear you wailing?
Yeah, who shall hear your wailing?

So where are you? Fol de toora loo!
Riding, flying, sailing?
Cry and shout - there is no way out,
And who shall hear you wailing?
Yeah, who shall hear your wailing?

Foto: Kerstin Polster
© 2007 Sheesong Publishing