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Der Traum, Bleistift auf Papier, 50 x 60 cm 1995
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When all there was to do is done
And all there was to say is said,
When all the notes to play have spun
The tunes that shall in turn have fed
Our ears and our eyes have seen
The sights He gave us to behold,
Red roses blooming on a green
With thistles growing in between,
Then summer’s warmth to winter’s cold
Will yield and vanish with the song
We sang with voices loud and strong
When hopes were high and days were long
And life itself forever young.
Michael Fuchs
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