*
 

Seefeld
 

What a pleasure, what a joy
 

To see the snow on the roofs
 

This landscape so white and so sweet
 

With its evergreens, here and there
 

The mountains with their whitened crests
 

Cast a shadow over the snow buried village.
 

Letting only the church with its tower emerge
 

From the top of the ski slopes
 

One can watch people, some with love, and some with fear
 

Sliding on the cotton like ground
 

Exposing themselves to dangerous games
 

Seefeld is a Tyrolean Village
 

Where one can find the least Austrians
 

But one can make acquaintances from foreign countries
 

With people whom we never saw
 

The time seems so short
 

When one thinks about going home
 

But everyone leaves this village
 

Taking back with him a new friendship, made during the short stay
 
Copyright 2007 Emile Tubiana