The Field

Eine der Lieblingsmethaphern des Herrn Rader lautet:
"Die Liebe ist ein Feld, das man täglich beackern muss."
Ob er damit mal Eingang in den Zitatenwortschatz findet, bleibt abzuwarten.
Sein literarischer Geschmack jedenfalls ist sehr zweifelhaft.


We worked on the field on a cold march morn.
On this barren soil just rocks and sands have grown.
My wife did moan, her hands were sore.
She looked already old now, just married a few weeks before.

Up jumped the devil and he said,
"You´ll work so hard until you´re dead,
But I´ll look for fame and girls and gold,
It´s to the city I´ll go.

We´ll meet again at harvest time,
You´ll drink water, I´ll drink wine.
If by then you´re down and old,
Mine shall be your soul!"

Then summer came with heavy rain.
I got sick and my wife both worked and relieved my pain.
I still don´t know how she did all the stuff
And I cursed myself I had´nt loved her well enough!

Up jumped the devil dressed in gold,
He said, "Remember what I told!
Time runs fast, my wish is true:
May God´s love be with you!"

By harvest time fields full of rye
Turned to fields of gold and all the crop waved high
And what I felt with her by my side
When we looked from the hill to the brook no man´s voice can describe.

On crawled the devil, he looked like dead,
He said, "My friend, enough I had
Of money, drugs and sex and booze -
Never thoght I´d lose..."

Down broke the devil and cried to me,
"Proud you stand! Your soul is free!
You have won, your place is the best,
May I lay my bones to rest?"

- "No!" -


© 2008 Sheesong Publishing