«A / street. / Mastiff / faces / sharp- / er / than years. O- / ver / iron horses / the first cubes leapt / from the windows of running houses. / Swans of bell necks / curve themselves in nooses of cables! / In the sky a cartoon giraffe is about / to show off motley rusty ...»
«When the noisy day quiets down / and the translucent shadow of night descends / on the muted streets of the city, / sleep–the reward for the day’s works – is granted to normal men. / But for me, agonizing hours of insomnia / drag by in silence. / In the dead stillness my conscience...»
«I drink to this ruined home, / To my evil life, / To our mutual loneliness, / And I drink to you — To the lie from the lips that betrayed me, / To the deadly coldness of your eyes, / To the fact that the world is cruel and crude, / To the fact that God did not save us.»
«And the next time, a deaf-mute — / I will come to a world where I give a poem to everyone, give everyone my hearing. Indeed it’s all the same — what they say — I don’t understand. / Indeed it’s all the same — who can make it out? — what I say. Forbid me God — again Corinna / ...»