Benjam Franklin Wedekind

1864-1918 / Hanover

An mein Weib (on my woman)

As kids we trudged, cheeky and bold,
Barefoot through all the puddles free
And let the filth of a cold
Day splash up to our knees

Like once we tramped through meadows and woods
So now it's life we step through;
All a sick culture's mud
Sticks to our legs like glue.

Oh, let's not get the shivers about what's there!
We're not afraid of the adders that swarm,
As long as our heads are held high in the air
And your hair flutters in the storm!
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