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famous poem

es gibt kein Entweichen durch den Fluß
haben wir keine Schande?
hoch-getragenes Rennen
innerhalb meiner Hand halte ich
ich habe eine Furcht in meinem Leben gehabt
traurige Rolle der gedämpften Trommel hat Schlag
durch die ausgedehnten schmerzende Brust der Masse
das Licht zurückgenommen
der Himmel
fette schwarze Dollars in einem Wein-Faßraum
häufig denke ich an die schöne Stadt

 



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