Above Sonnenburg

The crumbling ruins of the pastAre left behind and on the hillWe rest our horses and are still;Thought alone stirs, while from the vastStone quarries sounds the clinking drill.So, loved one, leave behind the strifeAnd wreckage of your past; we'll takeFresh stone from the fair future, makeOurselves a house of light and life;Your eyes were sealed, you now awake.