Winter of the Present

Piano-sounds in overcrowded bars,

The cries of the seagulls over lonely houses;

Transparent feelings on a line,

Depression of the forlorn.

 

While we dance on the rubble,

Blossoms fall from stems by decay.

Lost words into all eternity,

Black holes in a sky of confusion.

 

Trapped in inner-city spillovers

Junkies dream of sanity.

Lovers whistle the songs of solitude,

While politicians talk of working capacities.

 

Television engagements and wedding songs —

The same again in an endless loop,

Reiteration of advertising slogans;

On and on in an endless row.

Repetition of worthless promises,

Cold lines on patient papers of nothingness.

 

Nothing ever turns out well

In a world of recited dogmas;

Unemployment is an omnipresent threat,

While dirty streets can efface nothing.

 

Vampires of power

Dwell on streets of poverty —

The lonelyness of the big cities

Isn’t able to stir us up.

 

There is nothing to lose

In a world, where all is already lost.

Rebells and assassins

Turn everything upside down,

That was meant to overcome.

I look up into heaven

While winter tales tell of decay.