Our secret spring
What keeps us young and fresh and innocent
in spite of all ordeals and tragedies?
Is it our diligence at work or love?
I think it’s something more abstruse and subtle
and would simply call it our idealism
which can’t succumb to bulldozer attacks
no matter how much it is overrun.
That headline stands for all our secrets:
that unflinching optimism that can’t be beaten down
and all that enthusiastic workoholic energy
which just increases by its overstrain.
Love is our rest from all those battlefields,
and with the years we need it more and more;
so let us make that finally our happy end.