Outside on the water the trash gondola appears, paddled by two one-oared bandits. Liszt has written down some chords so heavy, they ought to be sent off to the mineralogical institute in Padua for analysis. Meteorites! Too heavy to rest, they can only sink and sink straight through the future all the way down to the Brownshirt years. The gondola is heavy-laden with the future’s huddled-up stones.III Peep-holes into 1990.March 25th. Angst for Lithuania. Dreamt I visited a large hospital. No personnel. Everyone was a patient.In the same dream a newborn girl who spoke in complete sentences.IV Beside the son-in-law, who’s a man of the times, Liszt is a moth-eaten grand seigneur. It’s a disguise. The deep, that tries on and rejects different masks, has chosen this one just for him— the deep that wants to enter people without ever showing its face.V Abbé Liszt is used to carrying his suitcase himself through sleet and sunshine and when his time comes to die, there will be no one to meet him at the station. A mild breeze of gifted cognac carries him away in the midst of a commission. He always has commissions. Two thousand letters a year! The schoolboy who writes his misspelled word a hundred times before he’s allowed to go home. The gondola is heavy-laden with life, it is simple and black.VI Back to 1990.Dreamt I drove over a hundred miles in vain. Then everything magnified. Sparrows as big as hens sang so loud that it briefly struck me deaf.Dreamt I had drawn piano keys on my kitchen table. I played on them, mute The neighbors came over to listen.VII The clavier, which kept silent through all of Parsifal (but listened), finally has something to say. Sighs. . sospiri. . When Liszt plays tonight he holds the sea-pedal pressed down so the ocean’s green force rises up through the floor and flows together with all the stone in the building. Good evening, beautiful deep! The gondola is heavy-laden with life, it is simple and black.VIII Dreamt I was supposed to start school but arrived too late. Everyone in the room was wearing a white mask. Whoever the teacher was, no one could say.
Landscape with Suns
The sun glides out from behind the house positions itself mid-street and breathes on us with its scarlet wind. Innsbruck I must leave you. But tomorrow a glowing sun stands in the half-dead gray forest where we have to work and live.
November in the Former GDR
The almighty Cyclops-eye went behind the clouds and the grass shuddered in the coal dust.Beaten sore and stiff from last night’s dreams we climb aboard the train that stops at every station and lays eggs.
