«The forward exults on the run. / What does it matter to him now! / Not for nothing is his body / Arched as it hurtles on. / Like a cloak, his soul streams out behind, / His collarbone knocks loud against / The fastening of the cloak. / The membrane dances in his ear, / In his throat ...»
«The trees stand clerically straight, / So close their branches almost poke / Into each house, nomads of late, / Now behind bars and under padlock. / The narrow boulevard, close — / Bounded by tight-packed houses, roars. But suddenly all doors jerk / Open, and the word goes round: / ...»
«A ray of light slants through the windows; / The massive house stands in the dark. / Hotly the fire, glittering / In its stone casing, reaches out. / Splendidly the kitchen blazes. / Today, like golden cart horses, / Ripening purposefully there — / Women, loaves, and pies. / One pi...»
«Hoisting the tuba, like a golden / Load, onto his back, / He tramped, resentful of his lot. / Two others followed in his track. / One, hugging the shadow of a violin, / A hunchback and a vagabond, / Scraped away the whole day long, / Like a sweaty armpit wept, / The second, a past ma...»