Ich komme aus
\ndem Staunen
\nnicht mehr heraus<\/p>\n
wie die dunkle Materie
\nder Leiden, die
\nwir verschleppen,<\/p>\n
biegt die Strahlen,
\ndie irgendwie<\/p>\n
erreichen uns
\nher\u00fcber das Nichts.<\/p>\n
*** 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,<\/i>\u00a0The Dark Matter of Expended Passion –\u00a0<\/i>I can\u2019t get over my astonishment \/ how the dark matter of the passions we lug around \/ bend the rays which somehow \/ reach us across Nothingness.<\/p>\n Ich komme aus dem Staunen nicht mehr heraus wie die dunkle Materie der Leiden, die wir verschleppen, biegt die Strahlen, die irgendwie erreichen uns her\u00fcber 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 … <\/p>\n
\nIt 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,\u00a0<\/i>Pastis<\/a>,\u00a0where this poem finds its place in my slender collection of German writing,\u00a0<\/i>Drahtseilk\u00fcnstler \/ Tightrope Walker).<\/p>\n