Heidelberg Revisited

And in my dream I was just halfway up the Holy Mountain of homesickness called Heidelberg. I had just crossed the Neckar river and, dripping wet was climbing what the travel agents without culture keep calling the most lovely promenade. A Schinkenbrot right near the fork, I've missed the Philosophenweg as well as what is called the Schlangenweg. I munched and chased the food with generosity straight out of Baden, a potent Kirschwasser, Schladerer, and watched, while nodding joyfully, the river and the Altstadt, as well as in the shadows, the town of Mannheim. Now, freshly strengthened it was off to try the Drachenschlucht, precarious it is and not for the faint of heart. Then, lovelier it cannot get, the Garden, the one made for exclusive use of the Philosophers. A beam of light, some quick reflection now beckoned from the distant shore, it was the Koenigsstuhl, the restaurant, I smelled the Sauerbraten now. And in the blink of philospher's keen vision, I flew, a bird whose real nature comes to life in Heidelberg. Who needs a cable car to taste the wine in ancient barrels, made of sacred wood. I woke with the sweet taste of Neckar wine still on my lips and to the voice of one Professor, who's been up in Valhalla for some forty years. It has been good to pay a visit to refresh my memory from student days, so long ago. I will be in demand once I get up above the town where all are happy, just looking down upon the scenery, while drinking wine outside all seasons.