QUELLE 

A mighty spring resides in me,

But it is blocked by water’s chilling dam:

It does not flow.

If only it would roll like the sea,

Or just trot and walk like a deer

I could be happy.

Yet it is stopped and stuck and stubborn

To flow.

So in fear I will stay,

Because the stream perpetually waits.

My cup is empty and my lips are dry.

Perhaps this water will fill me up,

Water my roots and drink me up.

If the spring is well, than give me a bucket,

So I may never be thirsty again.