As I sat down in the grass
A frog jumped on me
And asked:
„Why are you sad, little giant?
How come you’ve gone so silent?
You’re always singing when I see you
You’re always dreaming
Walking, talking,
Screaming, giggling…
Yet, now you’re still?”
„Well, I am sad because I’m ill.
I have nothing worth living for.
I have no passion anymore.
What’s left is such a weird mess,
It feels just as if Life itself
Gave up on us, on me…
It feels like an abyss.
That has no ending, just exists;
Just like a magic well,
Ready to slurp me in itself to dwell
And kill me softly with its silence.”
„Oh, little giant, such defiance,
Yet your voice cracked and shook.
You’re not that ripe just yet to look
For Death in every corner.
And I’m too fond of you right now
To become your mourner.”