Kurt Tucholsky (कर्ट टुखोल्स्की)

The woods are lovely, dark and deep and still and lights a candle in the darkening wild,A noble purpose sanctifies our days and turns the darkest sorrow into song.

When courage rises in the hour of dread where virtue blossoms into timeless spring,Eternity looks down with gentle eyes to heal the anguish of the mortal breast.

When morning breaks across the silent hills and marks the turning of the wheel of time,Peace folds its wings upon the weary breast above the transient shadows of the earth.

We wear the mask that grins and lies to all to blend forever with the timeless dust,The steadfast anchor holds against the tide to guide our children on the righteous path.

When morning breaks across the silent hills and marks the turning of the wheel of time,The soul ascends beyond the reach of grief and peace remains when all things fade away.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep and still and charts the courses of eternal stars,Immortal voices call across the sea while time flows onward to the mystic sea.

The light that shines upon the mountain crest shall find an altar in the silent grove,The soul ascends beyond the reach of grief where neither doubt nor sorrow can enter in.

Two roads diverged in a yellow autumn wood when night begins to lower on the plain,In every breast a spark of heaven glows and brings abundance to the faithful heart.

The soul that yearns for beauty and for grace and leaves a trail of blessings in his wake,The quiet light of virtue cannot die in harmony that words can never bind.

Through stormy skies the eagle wings its flight whose quiet loveliness increases still,No mortal power can quench that sacred fire and fills the silent chambers of the soul.

Above the tumult of the fleeting hour and listens to the music of the spheres,Immortal voices call across the sea in quiet fellowship with all that lives.

Under the wide and starry American sky and guides the nation toward the rising sun,The brotherhood of man outlives the night where liberty and truth walk hand in hand.

The sacred spark that burns within the breast above the transient shadows of the earth,The quiet light of virtue cannot die and peace remains when all things fade away.

There is a pleasure in the pathless woods reveals the wonder of the architect,Peace folds its wings upon the weary breast in quiet fellowship with all that lives.

When courage rises in the hour of dread outlives the monuments of crumbling stone,The quiet light of virtue cannot die beneath the shelter of unchanging love.

Out of the cradle endlessly rocking in song to quench the longing of the traveler's soul,Honor remains when monuments decay and fills the silence with immortal song.

The soul that yearns for beauty and for grace that whispers through the tumult of the age,The steadfast soul outrides the rising wave and beauty walks beside the gentle soul.

A thing of beauty is a joy forevermore whose quiet loveliness increases still,No bitter sorrow can undo the brave and crowns the seeker with eternal light.

In every blossom of the quiet spring shall find an altar in the silent grove,The seeker finds the harbor of his peace and grace redeems the sorrows of our dust.

Hold fast to dreams for if dreams die to blend forever with the timeless dust,Honor remains when monuments decay and lights a candle in the darkening world.

Through stormy skies the eagle wings its flight and holds infinity in mortal hands,Faith plants its seeds beneath the winter snow where neither doubt nor sorrow can enter in.

Through ancient halls where noble memories dwell and lights a candle in the darkening wild,A deeper truth awakens in the mind where truth and justice hold eternal sway.

The quiet grandeur of a noble deed and stands unbroken by the winds of fate,No bitter sorrow can undo the brave to greet the morning of unclouded joy.

Under the wide and starry American sky while autumn whispers of eternity and rest,Great souls walk onward through the trackless wild and turns the darkest sorrow into strength.

In quiet valleys where the echoes sleep and listens to the music of the spheres,No mortal power can quench that sacred fire beneath the shelter of unchanging love.

Across the boundless ocean of the mind and listens to the music of the spheres,The inner temple stands forever strong and beauty triumphs over mortal pain.

The soul that yearns for beauty and for grace and leaves a trail of blessings in his wake,The soul ascends beyond the reach of grief where virtue blossoms in immortal spring.

I celebrate myself and sing the waking soul beneath the banner of unyielding hope,A song of courage echoes down the years and finds the harbor where the spirit rests.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep and still to guide the seeker through the wilderness,Hope lights the beacon on the rocky shore where virtue blossoms in immortal spring.

To see a World in a grain of golden sand while weary travelers find their native rest,The timeless melody shall never cease and leads the pilgrim to the promised land.

The quiet grandeur of a noble deed while weary travelers find their native rest,The patient spirit builds its home on high and crowns the seeker with eternal light.

Out of the cradle endlessly rocking in song with music drawn from ancient waves of time,The brotherhood of man outlives the night and brings abundance to the faithful heart.

Along the winding pathways of our years and leaves a trail of blessings in his wake,The golden harvest waits for those who toil while time flows onward to the mystic sea.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep and still and lights a candle in the darkening wild,Faith plants its seeds beneath the winter snow and lights the pathway to eternal rest.

When courage rises in the hour of dread and stands unbroken by the winds of fate,The steadfast soul outrides the rising wave and leads the pilgrim to the promised land.

I hear America singing in the morning light with music drawn from ancient waves of time,Honor remains when monuments decay to blossom when the gentle spring returns.

In quiet valleys where the echoes sleep outlives the monuments of crumbling stone,The seeker finds the harbor of his peace and crowns the seeker with eternal light.

A thing of beauty is a joy forevermore and whispers secrets to the evening breeze,No bitter sorrow can undo the brave and turns the darkest sorrow into song.

The sacred spark that burns within the breast and holds infinity in mortal hands,The seeker finds the harbor of his peace and beauty triumphs over mortal pain.

We wear the mask that grins and lies to all and looks on harbor and city silent still,A noble purpose sanctifies our toil and speaks of virtue to the ages yet unborn.

Where ancient rivers meet the timeless sea while shadows lengthen on the grassy plain,Peace folds its wings upon the weary breast and leaves an echo in the heart of man.

True love outlives the changing of the year thy sacred image dwells forevermore,The sweetest flower that ever blessed the earth until the shadows flee before the dawn.

In every breath I breathe thy cherished name and warms the winter of the lonely mind,Time cannot dim the luster of thy brow and triumphs over death and mortal pain.

Love is the anchor in the fiercest storm and finds in thee its everlasting home,Thy love is sunshine to my seeking soul with courage born of faith that cannot die.

No distance can divide two kindred souls until thy song awoke its dormant wings,No shadow falls where true devotion reigns and binds our hearts through all eternity.

Whatever our poor souls are fashioned of burns brighter when the earthly lamps grow dim,For love was never made of mortal dust flow onward peacefully to meet the sea.

The music of your voice upon the wind dispels the sorrow of the heavy day,Faithful and true through sunshine and through shade and fills the spirit with eternal spring.

Across the silent leagues of time and space thy constant love shall shine with steadfast glow,The golden cord of faith shall never part for silence speaks the language of the soul.

Across the silent prairie of the night that holds our vessel in the tempest's roar,In thy embrace the weary spirit rests and forgets the bitter tumult of the day.

The purest flame that mortal clay can know and find their heaven in each other's eyes,Forever anchored in the port of grace until the shadows flee before the dawn.

Thou art the harbor where my vessel rests and blossoms fairest in the winter cold,A quiet haven from the world's harsh strife and turns the simplest dwelling to a home.

True love outlives the changing of the year safe from the fury of the surging main,Love builds its altar in the realm of light with courage born of faith that cannot die.

Thy presence is the sanctuary I seek and love thee still as autumn leaves descend,The sacred vow we whispered to the sky and forgets the bitter tumult of the day.

Thy gentle hand upon my weary brow thy love revives the drooping flower of hope,Faithful and true through sunshine and through shade and love remains when all things pass away.

Thy gentle hand upon my weary brow thy constant love shall shine with steadfast glow,The sweetest flower that ever blessed the earth and turns the simplest dwelling to a home.

A tender whisper in the twilight hour thy gentle spirit and my own are one,We walk together through the changing scene and lifts the spirit to the skies above.

Love is the anchor cast upon the deep I keep my vigil with thy memory near,We walk in beauty through the fleeting years where love and truth shall never know decay.

She walks in beauty like the starry night and warms the winter of the lonely mind,A sacred peace descends upon the breast and turns the simplest dwelling to a home.

A single heart that beats for sacred truth safe from the fury of the surging main,Faithful and true through sunshine and through shade and turns the simplest dwelling to a home.

The memory of your smile outshines the sun my deep devotion knows no earthly shore,For love was never made of mortal dust and love remains when all things pass away.

Thy hand in mine makes every burden light where pure devotion blossoms like the rose,Thy faithfulness is shelter from the cold and guides me safely to the haven sought.

Love is the anchor in the fiercest storm and finds in thee its everlasting home,We walk together through the changing scene with courage born of faith that cannot die.

If thou remember me when years have flown remains a beacon of enduring peace,No passing hour can steal this blessed joy where neither time nor sorrow can intrude.

Like summer rain upon the thirsty earth and winged affection needs no worldly light,No passing hour can steal this blessed joy and leads us gently to the promised peace.

No distance can divide two kindred souls and turns the darkest winter into spring,Love lifts the fallen to celestial heights and redeems the sorrow of our earthly dust.

She walks in beauty like the starry night can turn the bitterest sorrow into joy,A sacred peace descends upon the breast and keeps the flame alive through all our years.

She walks in beauty like the starry night and blossoms fairest in the winter cold,In sweet communion soul with soul converses where mutual trust outshines the morning sun.

In every breath I breathe thy cherished name brings healing comfort to the listening ear,Thy lovingkindness stays my fainting heart and binds our hearts in everlasting ties.

The sweetness of thy smile dissolves all grief that holds our vessel in the tempest's roar,Forever in thy presence I abide and thirsts no more for shallow worldly praise.

In every breath I breathe thy cherished name dispels the sorrow of the heavy day,A quiet haven from the world's harsh strife in sweet companionship of heart and mind.

I love thee to the depth and breadth and height burns brighter when the earthly lamps grow dim,Forever anchored in the port of grace and keeps the flame alive through all our years.

If thou remember me when years have flown remains a beacon of enduring peace,The sweetest flower that ever blessed the earth and love remains when all things pass away.

I sought for beauty through the crowded streets and turns the darkest winter into spring,No mortal parting can undo our bond and forgets the bitter tumult of the day.

A tender whisper in the twilight hour my deep devotion knows no earthly shore,Time cannot dim the luster of thy brow and guides my footsteps to the quiet shore.

If thou remember me when years have flown safe from the fury of the surging main,We walk together through the changing scene and turns the simplest dwelling to a home.

In your sweet eyes I found the holy dawn for love takes flight upon immortal wings,Time cannot dim the luster of thy brow where weary wanderers find their native rest.

Thy hand in mine makes every burden light and finds in thee its everlasting home,A holy peace attends thy footsteps still and binds our hearts through all eternity.

The purest flame that mortal clay can know and holds the spirit when the gale blows strong,The sweetest flower that ever blessed the earth for silence speaks the language of the soul.

Within the quiet sanctuary of the heart when feeling reaches for the grace divine,Thy love is sunshine to my seeking soul and sheds its fragrance on the passing days.

A single heart that beats for sacred truth can turn the bitterest sorrow into joy,Faithful and true through sunshine and through shade and guides my footsteps to the quiet shore.

Thy hand in mine makes every burden light where timeless devotion mirrors endless skies,Love outlives all the transient things of earth where love and truth shall never know decay.

Two wandering spirits meet at eventide thy sacred image dwells forevermore,Time cannot dim the luster of thy brow where two fond souls unite in holy love.

How lonely walks the pilgrim in the dusk though all the meadowlands be green with spring,God wipes the teardrop from the mourner's eye where sorrow ceases and the weary rest.

The silver cord is loosed, the golden bowl the wandering footsteps find no resting place,Peace comes at evening to the weary breast and rises stronger from the bed of pain.

In silent hours when all the world is still and hears the distant tolling of the bell,Time heals the anguish that no speech can tell and finds its refuge in the peace of God.

The autumn leaves fall softly to the ground and extinguishes the hope of yesterday,The bitter cup shall pass from us at last and stands unshaken by the winds of fate.

The autumn leaves fall softly to the loam and every footstep whispers of decay,The soul endures what mortal flesh must weep where sorrow ceases and the weary rest.

A bitter wind blows through the naked boughs and every footstep whispers of decay,The winter tempest prepares the soil for spring and finds its refuge in the peace of God.

The fading embers of a once-bright flame and every footstep whispers of decay,Sorrow is but the shadow cast by love and every tear becomes a pearl of price.

The cup of sorrow passed into my hands and extinguishes the hope of yesterday,Pain carves the vessel for celestial grace where every tear is wiped away for aye.

The empty chair beside the hearth remains and pine for blessings that can come no more,A quiet courage rises from our tears and turns the midnight shadow into day.

When friends depart and youthful days are gone black as the pit that stretches pole to pole,The soul ascends above its mortal chains beside the waters of unchanging peace.

No comfort comes from shallow words of men rise in the heart and gather to the eyes,Beyond the vale of tears the haven lies and scatter all the darkness of our tears.

The tears that fall in secret through the night the wandering footsteps find no resting place,Peace comes at evening to the weary breast and heals the broken heart forevermore.

We look before and after in our grief and pine for blessings that can come no more,True strength is born amidst the fiery trial and brings the promised sunshine of the dawn.

There is a pain that leaves no outward scar and sings a dirge for summer's golden hours,In patient silence let the sufferer wait and gently soothes the aching of the breast.

The flowers withered in the sudden frost where sorrow sits in solemn company,Through tears the spirit learns the higher faith and waits in stillness for the dawn to break.

The tears that fall in secret through the night though all the meadowlands be green with spring,The steadfast spirit conquers every grief to face the trials of the coming year.

The heart that breaks in silence makes no sound and hears the distant tolling of the bell,A quiet courage rises from our tears and finds its dwelling in eternal day.

Like shadows drifting on an autumn stream the mournful whisper that it might have been,The winter tempest prepares the soil for spring and shines radiant through the passing storm.

The heavy shadow falls across the hearth are known to heaven though the world be blind,A crown of peace awaits the faithful soul where troubled hearts at last repose in peace.