Bericht ueber einen Toten der zwanziger Jahre

He had been born one day,
another - executed by militia,
but one more pretty poem...
a cigarette in mouth
is broken
like a rose.

He has been agitating, he has been
keeping to call
against the war,
he didn't speak a lot
about politics,
he didn't think a lot
about little things,
he wanted his beliefs
to spread,
he wanted men
to share his beautiful ideals...

They dumped his body in shallow waters
of the Landwehr Canal.
These were the times of disorder.

(from German, original by Hans Sahl)


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