A keresés eredménye

King Alder

Who's riding through wind and night so late?
It is a father. The clock strikes eight.
He holds his boy well in his arm,
the child is ill, he keeps him warm.
He rides until the morning light,
still very fast, the time is tight.
They reach the court with toil and dread.
The boy's alive, the horse is dead.
 

The Lonely One

I'm wandering lonely through the lanes,
and why you left me, I can't see.
Dark is the night with heavy rains,
how could you do all that to me?
Nothing left to me but grieving,
I even jumped into a creek,
the purpose was, to end my living,
but the creek was not so deep.
 
Through the rain I'm walking, lonely,
and my face is rather wet.
It's not the rain, oh no, not only,
the reason is, I'm very sad.
Where is death with sharpened knives?
Where is death, to end my course?
Or still better, both our lives,
even better: rather yours!
 

Why lemons are sour

I would really like to point out that
Long ago lemons were—
Exactly when, I no longer
recall—as sweet as candy
 
Until they once said, 'We lemons,
We want to be big like melons!
We also find our yellow color abhorrent,
And would rather be red or bluish!'
 
God above heard their complaints
And said, 'No, that will never do!
You must remain as you are! I'm sorry!'
And that's how lemons became sour…