The sky is swollen with tears and melancholy. Only far off, where its foul vapors burst, Green glow pours down. The houses, Gray grimaces, are fiendishly bloated with mist. ...
The street looks like eternal Sunday. Lightly summerhouse rests against summerhouse. Chauffeurs wheel by grandly. Three fine citizens glide by quietly. A song flies coolly out a window....
Houses stand stiffly next to their fences. Let your eyes, last sparrows, flutter. Bluebottles alight on your face. Don't you, Kuno, feel the eternal mills - The unfeeling one bores holes in your head....
Out of crooked clouds priceless things grow. Very tiny things suddenly become important. The sky is green and opaque Down there where the blind hills glide. Tattered trees stagger into the distance....
The air is gray. Who knows something good for soot? Next to an ox grazing on the ground Stands an astonished deeply serious mountaineer. Soon there is a powerful downpour of rain....
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....
Like a white fungus, a lump of wind covers The green corpse of the lost world. Frozen rivers form an iron dam Which holds together the rotten remains. In a small rainy corner stands...
Behind yellow windows shadows drink hot tea. Yearning people sway on a hardened pond Workers find a soft woman's corpse. Glowing blue snows cast a howling darkness....