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Gedicht

Yosuke Tanaka

The Station to Spring

I screw up my face against the oncoming wind
Which carries my feet to the left and the right
I climb the slopes to the plateau
Just barely managing to hold back
Everything brimming inside me

I had been dreaming of a partially underground movie theater
Swallowing the audience members like a rectangular mouth
Feathers sprouting from an elevator car
And scattering like dandelions in April

A warm café, I hope for
A café on this street
On the rocks, sir?
A deep sleep.

In the darkness
The orange juice glows.
It seems to shine from within.
The station to spring is near.

THE STATION TO SPRING

Yosuke Tanaka

Yosuke Tanaka

(Japan, 1969)

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THE STATION TO SPRING

The Station to Spring

I screw up my face against the oncoming wind
Which carries my feet to the left and the right
I climb the slopes to the plateau
Just barely managing to hold back
Everything brimming inside me

I had been dreaming of a partially underground movie theater
Swallowing the audience members like a rectangular mouth
Feathers sprouting from an elevator car
And scattering like dandelions in April

A warm café, I hope for
A café on this street
On the rocks, sir?
A deep sleep.

In the darkness
The orange juice glows.
It seems to shine from within.
The station to spring is near.
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