Ich komme aus
dem Staunen
nicht mehr heraus
wie die dunkle Materie
der Leiden, die
wir verschleppen,
biegt die Strahlen,
die irgendwie
erreichen uns
herüber das Nichts.
***
It is presumptuous of me to write in German, but I do anyway, usually seeking a little help from my friends (here again F.P. visible though anonymous in the photo at the head of my poetry page, Pastis, where this poem finds its place in my slender collection of German writing, Drahtseilkünstler / Tightrope Walker).
That said, this is a better poem than my own verbatim pony, which I append for readers of English, in which a good title would be, The Dark Matter of Expended Passion – I can’t get over my astonishment / how the dark matter of the passions we lug around / bend the rays which somehow / reach us across Nothingness.