That which is mine by Holderlin

The autumn days repose in their fullness now,
The grapes are lit all through and the orchards red
With fruit though some as a libation
Of lovely blossom did fall to the earth.

And in the fields around where I follow
The quiet path out contented men and women
See how their land has ripened and what
Happy labour its richness will give them.

The mild light of the skies looks down on them,
Comes through their trees upon them busy working
And shares the joy, for the fruits are not
Only a work of the hands of humans.

Oh golden light do you shine for me too, does
The air breathe on me again as though blessing
Some joy such as once there was and came
Visiting my heart like a happy man's?

I was so but like roses, passing as they,
That good life went and yet, too often, the stars,
Still flowering, which are all I have,
The stars are my sweet reminders of it.

Happy the quiet love of man and wife, a
Hearth and home in a country to be proud of.
Over solid ground the heavens shine
More beautifully and a man is steady.

For like the plant if it cannot root in ground
Of its own the soul burns out of any man
Who goes his ways on the holy earth
Only with the daylight, a poor mortal.

Oh heights of heaven, the pull of you is strong,
Too strong, in wild weather, on quiet days, I feel
The force of the restless gods, they come
And go and it wastes my heart away.

Today though let me walk my familiar
Path in peace among the trees whose leaves are lit
In the crown with gold, dying, and wreathe
My head likewise with kind memories.

And so that for me too, as there is for others,
To save my mortal heart there will be a place
To abide and the soul not leave my life
And go beyond me, longing and homeless,

Let the poem be my place of asylum
And friendly garden, tended, for the joy it gives,
With careful love, and among the always
Renewing flowers let me walk and dwell

In a secure simplicity while outside
Wave on wave the colossal unsteady times
Are roaring at a distance and the
Quieter sun furthers the work I do.

High over mortal men the powers of heaven
Out of their kindness bless for each his own.
Oh bless likewise that which is mine
And may the Fates not end the dream too soon.