I dream about my travels,
through times long gone
and space now allocated
to those young bulls with horns.
A melancholy road ahead
is lined on either side
by fragrant leaves and stems,
with purple petals, moist of dew.
Those are my kindred spirits,
they neither wilt nor ever die,
a comfort should I need to cry.

Herbert Nehrlich

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/my-kindred-spirits/