Poems by Alfred Lichtenstein

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It's enough to make me throw the chair through the panes of the
I am the Division Commander,
Those were fine times, when I still
It's certainly late. I must earn something.
In the sky the howitzers no longer explode,
Night creeps into the cellars, musty and dull.
I can no longer find a place for my eyes.
Yesterday I still went powdered and addicted
A frozen moon stands waxen,
Here is the way I shall die:
A fog has destroyed the world so gently.
The sky is swollen with tears and melancholy.
Paul said:
The street looks like eternal Sunday.
Houses stand stiffly next to their fences.
Drunk, Lene Levi walked
It sure was fine to be a soldier for a year.
(Shortly before departing for the theater of war)
They cannot stand their rooms in the evening.
Evening comes with moonshine and silky darkness.
I stand this way on cloudy winter days
Many sick people are walking in the garden
A large space - half dark... deadly... completely confused...
Out of crooked clouds priceless things grow.
Decline already -
First Song:
Every day, when it gets so very dark
(for a picture)
Like old bones in the pot
The air is gray. Who knows something good for soot?
City and beloved are far behind.
Your eyes are bright lands.
The heat sticks closely to the gun and to the hand.
The yellow mother's eye burns up there.
... And all the streets lie smooth and shining there.
Half hands hold my fate.
Now of course I put on my straw hat.
You don't love me... I have never appealed to you...
In weary circles a sick fish hovers
The deserted streets flow in gleaming light
The troops are singing fervently, each for himself:
I go through the days
Some day - I have signs - a mortal storm
The day is ruined. The sky is drunk.
Without horror you devour dead flesh every day.
In my youth the world was a small pond,
Thousands of stars twinkle in the gentle sky.
The fat man thought:
The hour moves forward.
Lene Levi went out in the evening,
The folds of the sea crash like whips on my skin.
A certain Rudolf called out:
All men are now greedy,
All things are seamless,
The sky is like a blue jellyfish.
Packs of houses squat along rotten streets,
A man walked back and forth in his torn slippers
The earth grows moldy in fog.
The sweaty heads of waiters tower above the room
A white bird is the big sky.
The naked seats hearken strangely
One must guard oneself ever so carefully against
Like a white fungus, a lump of wind covers
(Dedicated to Kurt Lubasch, July 15, 1912)
First a bright, brief drum roll,
Sleepy policemen waddle under streetlights.
In the sunlight doctors tear a woman apart.
The poet thought: ah, I have enough trash!
No, I have no capacity for life.
Evening and grief and lamp light
Mother, don't hold me,
White, I lie
Fat trains go down loud tracks
A little girl crouches with her little brother
A totally perverse Turk bought for himself,
(Dedicated to a clown)
(Dedicated to L.L.)
I gladly left
What do I care about the swift newspaper boys.
A fat young man plays with a pond.
Kuno Kohn sings:
I would like to lie in my bed
A dog shrieks in misery from a bridge
Behind yellow windows shadows drink hot tea.