Gedicht
Uwe Kolbe
Melancholy (The Crisis)
Machines for measuring things have all gone bad.The emotions go out to find a better one.
The rupture in this world has grown immense.
Hollowness struts in triumph through the streets.
Bell ringing out over snow: go fuck yourself.
© Translation: 2003, Luke Davies
From: Unpublished
From: Unpublished
Melancholie (Die Krise)
Melancholie (Die Krise)
Das Maß ist falsch, und die Gefühlegehn aus, sich eins zu holen. Der Bruch
immens, Parade geht das Stroh.
Ach leck mich, Glockenton im Schnee.
© 2004, Uwe Kolbe
From: Unpublished
From: Unpublished
Gedichten
Gedichten van Uwe Kolbe
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Melancholie (Die Krise)
Das Maß ist falsch, und die Gefühlegehn aus, sich eins zu holen. Der Bruch
immens, Parade geht das Stroh.
Ach leck mich, Glockenton im Schnee.
From: Unpublished
Melancholy (The Crisis)
Machines for measuring things have all gone bad.The emotions go out to find a better one.
The rupture in this world has grown immense.
Hollowness struts in triumph through the streets.
Bell ringing out over snow: go fuck yourself.
© 2003, Luke Davies
From: Unpublished
From: Unpublished
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