Until the turning point arrives
We wrap the days
around us like a feather duvet
and whisper soft sounds
until hope has dozed off.
It is not yet known
how long she will hibernate this year.
We dare not dream too loudly,
painting in our heads
the world of tomorrow
in naked tones.
Diffident and timid the nights
seem to swiftly go by.
Until the next morning starts to awaken
and the time has come.
Until we notice how each second
once again becomes clearly audible.
How each tick of the clock starts to busily resonate
in the corridors of our hearts.
How together they are the turning point:
the voices that make the timidity fade to ashes
and that make us taste change on our tongues.
The people of yesterday and of tomorrow
who make the ground tremble beneath our feet
and are the inspiration
to this day.
Each and every one
who perpetually keeps their dreams
wide awake.
Translated by Heather Young