Av Friedrich von Schiller(1759-1805)
Oversatt til engelsk av Emily Ezust
Men speak and dream a lot
Of better, future days;
After a happy, golden goal
One can see them running and chasing
The world grows old and then grows young again,
Yet Man hopes always for improvement
Hope leads man into life,
And it flutters about the cheerful boy.
The young man is enraptured by its magic shine;
It is not buried with the gray-haired old man,
for although he ends his weary run in the grave,
he still plants by his grave - Hope
It is not empty, flattering delusion
generated in the mind of a fool.
In the heart it proclaims itself loudly:
"We were born for better!"
And that which the inner voice says
Will not mislead the hoping soul.
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