Vom Kirchhof

Graeschen, wenn auch noch so schlicht,
Eine Hand verschmaeht dich nicht.
Bring ihr eine leise Kunde
Von dem muetterlichen Grunde,
Dem bescheiden du entspossen,
Wo der Tau auf dich geflossen,
Den, die Mitternacht zu weihen,
Jenes Gartens Waechter streuen.

Eduard Moerike  1845

About the Churchyard

Blade of grass, so plain thou art,
one hand rejects thee not.
Give to it gentle tidings
From the motherly grave,
From which thou so humbly hast sprung,
Where the dew that moistens thee,
To consecrate the midnight hour,
By this garden's guardians is strewn

Translation: Charles L. Cingolani        Copyright © 2013
. . . Even the smallest thing, here a blade of grass, merits Moerike's tender, loving attention . . .
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