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sympathy poem

in ihren zackigen regimentals
Material des Mondes
ich hörte den Wind aller Tag
vor langer Zeit im jungen Moonlight
ich stehe im kalten grauen Wetter
sind Sie wach?
sehr gut Sie Liberale
das Swanbestehen
auf und ab geht ihn
dunkelstes, merkwürdigstes Geheimnis
nicht von der breiten Welt des Ganzen
ich stand das geöffnete Flügelfenster bereit
ich wußte nie, daß die Masse soviel Gold hatte

 



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