The Journey

Friedrich Holderlin

Suevia, my mother, happy land!

You also are like your more shining sister

Lombardy over there

Flowed through by a hundred streams

And trees in plenty, white with blossom or reddish

And the darker, deep, full green, the wild trees

And the Alps of Switzerland overshadow you too,

Neighbourly; for near the hearth of the house

Is where you live and you can hear

Inside from silvery vessels

The spring rushing that issues

From pure hands when touched

By warm rays

Crystal ice and tipped over

By the lightly quickening light

The snowy summit drenches the earth

With purest water. For that reason

You are born loyal. Hard

Living near the source to quit the place.

And your children, the towns

On the long lake in the haze

On the willowy Neckar and on the Rhine

All think

Nowhere would be better to live.