After a hundred years [German translation]

After a hundred years

Nobody knows the place,

Agony that enacted there

Motionless as peace.

Weeds triumphant ranged;

Strangers strolled and spelled

At the lone orthography

Of the elder dead.

Winds of summer fields

Recollect the way,

Instinct picking up the key

Dropped by memory.

• Artist:Emily Dickinson