Rolandseck, Oberwinter

The corner of an old French song
Sites gracefully, peacefully on the riverside.
Over winter late summer thrives
And cast shadows, sultry and long.

And the painted facades of the houses
Tell each other to whom they belong.

The valley, sycamores, willows and birch,
Your pointed roofs, shutters and blinds;
Meandering along, the river turns and it winds
Providing safety for the minds of the banks. The church

With its stained glass still shining
As we left it.

A confluence awaits, I know;
Two rivers crafting valleys here.
So deep, so wide, so picturesque and clear,
A city built while rivers flow.

And the painted facades of the houses
Tell each other to whom they belong.

Further inland our journey comes.
More people, more buildings but yet
Still sunshine, still heartbeats – both set:
Simply listening, all beating drums.

Can you see your new house?
It’s the one as blue as your eyes.

The corner of an old French song
Sits blissfully in my mind’s eye.
And as I gaze upon the years gone by
I know you and I could do no wrong.

Though the walls have faded as we have lived here,
Your eyes have never lost their shine.

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