German Poems
The Small Fire
And when we had finished off the earth
we put down poison for the sky. It
descended and ate, and the sun, overcome
by nausea, vomited into our eyes.
The winds writhed and, breath by breath, expired; great
it was, that day when the sky came down
and our knives played with it ( — except
that no new day would come
and we by a small fire now, in darkness — )
poetrymagazines' note: Reproduced with kind permission of the Michael Hamburger Trust.
Translated by Michael Hamburger
Page(s) 156
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