The reassuring ray of the sun

Breaks through the birch trees.

You stop chewing your bread

With Schwarzwälder speck,

Listen to the birds twittering and chirping,

Singing hymns to the sunrise,

On your spacious terrace. 

After the long, icy winter

You enjoy the warmth

Of the glorious lamp of Heaven.

Out in the East,

Below the blue hills,

Where Stegen,

Buchenbach, Oberried

Are nestled,

You discern the sound of cars

Whizzing by like a swarm of hornets.

In the early morning

You’re entranced

By the blue titmice,

Kohlmeise and field sparrows,

Busily chirping and picking

At the sun-flower seeds,

You’ve strewn in the garden

And bird house,

Which dangles from a metal arch,

Where the steps begin.

A flurrying of wings,

Causes the two hares to scurry,

Take refuge on the cobbled terrace,

 A warning that the fat cat from the neighbourhood

Is on the prowl in the undergrowth.

As you gaze up on the slope,

You see the sleek Fingerhut (digitalis)

Reaching out for the sun in light-blue glory.

The oval table is decorated

With a flowery cloth.

The aroma of the coffee

Reaches your nostrils,

Mixed with the aromatic smell

Of the Moroccan pepermint.

Fingerhut: digitalis