Some day - I have signs - a mortal storm Is coming from the far north. Everywhere is the smell of corpses. The great killing begins. The lump of sky grows dark, Storm-death lifts its clawed paws;...
The day is ruined. The sky is drunk. Like false pearls, little stumps Of chopped up light lie around and reveal A glimpse of streets, a few clumps of houses. Everything else is rotten and devoured...
Without horror you devour dead flesh every day. And dead blood is a sweet syrup for you. Aren't you afraid? - Indeed your earliest fathers also had, And before you awoke,...
In my youth the world was a small pond, Grandma and red roof, lowing Of oxen and a clump of trees. And all around the huge green meadow. How lovely was this dreaming into distance....
Thousands of stars twinkle in the gentle sky. The landscape glows. From the distant meadow Mute marching men slowly come closer. Only once a young Lieutenant, a page boy in love,...
The fat man thought: In the evening I gladly walk in rubbers, But also when the streets are clean and spotless. I am never entirely sober in rubbers. I hold the cigarette in my hand....
The hour moves forward. The mole moves out. The moon emerges furiously. The ocean heaves. The child becomes an old man. Animals pray and flee. It's getting too hot for the trees....
It's good and beautiful to be a soldier for a year. You live longer that way. And one is certainly pleased With each scrap of time that one snatches from death....
The folds of the sea crash like whips on my skin. And the stars of the sea tear me apart. The evening of the sea is one of screaming wounds for the lonely, But lovers find the good death of their day dreams......
O you Berlin, you colorful stone, you beast. You cast me with street lamps like briars. Ah, when one flows in the night through your lamps After women, silky, plump....
A certain Rudolf called out: I have eaten too much. Whether it's healthy is very questionable. After such a greasy lunch I really feel uncomfortable. But I belch beautifully and smoke...
All things are seamless, As though forgotten, light and dull. From the sacred heights the green sky spills Still water on the city. Glazed cobblers' lamps shine. Empty bakeries are waiting....
The sky is like a blue jellyfish. And all around are fields, rolling meadows - Peaceful world, you great mousetrap, Would that I might finally escape from you.. O if I had wings -...
Packs of houses squat along rotten streets, Around whose hump a gray sun shines. A perfumed, half crazy little poodle Casts exhausted eyes at the big world. In a window a boy catches flies....
A man walked back and forth in his torn slippers In the small room He inhabited. He thought about the events About which he was informed by the evening paper....
The earth grows moldy in fog. The evening is as oppressive as lead. Electric sparks crackle and whimper all around, Breaking everything in two. Like wretched hobos Cities are smoking on the horizon....
The sweaty heads of waiters tower above the room Like lofty and powerful capitals. Lice-ridden boys giggle nastily. And shining girls give painfully beautiful looks. And distant women are so very excited......
A white bird is the big sky. Under it a cowering city stares. The houses are half-dead old people. A gaunt carriage-horse gapes grumpily. Winds, skinny dogs, run weakly....
The naked seats hearken strangely Alarming and quiet, as though there were some danger. Only some are covered with a person. A green girl often looks into a book. And someone else finds a handkerchief....