Christmas of a dreamer

[Melina Marie]

(Hallöchen, folgendes ist ein frühes Gedicht von mir, als ich gerade angefangen habe, mich auch einmal an englischer Lyrik zu versuchen. 'Bestest' in V. 29 ist eher eine umgangssprachliche Form, welche ich mal in Amerika aufgeschnappt habe, falls dies jemandem ungewohnt sein sollte. LG und einen schönen Abend! )


Come closer, my little friend!
The story I'll tell has no end.
The beginning is just like a dream,
and the man in it likes to be seen.

A whole treasure of passion his art...!
Glittering snow is spread over the landmark,
and lies in peace while somebody is painting,
tempting this man to the art of creating.

Far away, a bell to pray,
ringing late, predicting fate.
It's spreading Christmas everywhere,
and expels the dark atmosphere.

The enlightening music reaches the man,
inspires him to more than he already can.
He considers how to catch the magic in paint,
the girl on the wall...she just looks like a saint.

His brush doesn't know where to start,
but then he looks inside his heart.
The only way is to paint with love,
so he begins with the stars above.

The cold is nothing he is afraid of,
instead loneliness is killing him...so soft.
A deep hug and a kiss on the cheeks,
is the greatest dream his soul seeks.

In the old town, couples pass by,
these heartwarming moments make him cry,
and his paint mixes with tears,
to have nobody is what he fears.

It could be the bestest event of the year,
however, he has a voice no one can hear.
And what's his art without a voice anyway?
A mixture of colours that carries a lot of weight.