It's enough to make me throw the chair through the panes of the mirror Into the street - There I sit with raised eyebrows: All bars are full, My bar is empty - isn't that terrific......
In the sky the howitzers no longer explode, The cannoneers rest next to their guns. The infantry pitch tents now, And the pale moon slowly rises. On yellow fields in red trousers, the French are ablaze,...
I can no longer find a place for my eyes. I cannot hold my legs together. My heart is hollow. My head is going to burst. Mushiness all around. Nothing wants to take shape....
Night creeps into the cellars, musty and dull. Tuxedos totter through the rubble of the street. Faces are moldy and worn out. The blue morning burns coolly in the city....
I am the Division Commander, His Excellency. I have attained what is humanly possible. A lovely consciousness. In front of me Important people and chiefs of regiments Bend their knees,...
Those were fine times, when I still Walked in silk socks and wore underpants, Sometimes had ten marks to spare, in order To hire a woman, bored in the day Night after night I sat in the coffeehouse....
Yesterday I still went powdered and addicted Into the many-colored sounding world. Today everything has long since drowned. Here is a thing. There is a thing. Something seems like this....
It's certainly late. I must earn something. But they're all going right by today with smug expressions on their faces. They don't want to give me a single good-luck penny. It's a miserable life....
Evening comes with moonshine and silky darkness. The roads become weary. The narrow world widens. Winds of opium move in and out of the field. I widen my eyes like silver wings....
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,...
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....