To a Friend

On fully out-stretched wings the eagle soars.
The air is thin, where he glides, and difficult to breathe.
In the mountain-winter's desolate air he is much alone.
Dusk and cold are his escorts -
his only joy
the joy of feeling himself flying on strong wings.

So high you travel into the emptiest winter skies,
as brave as the eagle by virtue of your flashing will.
You denied yourself striving for happiness, you chose
  the steep
paths, which frighten us, the weak.
So pale you wander on,
wander on with brisk and vigorous step like the wind.

My world resembles yours, and yet it is not the same.
Laughing my star dances amongst the riddles of the
  stars.
Your iron-grey joy, I love it from afar.
Let me walk by your side
and let my eyes reach
into your wintry world and your flashing will!