Poem
Monika Rinck
things
things today are somehow lonelythings are like vases without friends
like the sideboard here with its marble
slab stood against the wall and left there.
what we want to know is: don’t things
have other things to play with?
have things been given nothing, not the
slightest thing, to hold on to?
but if we were perfectly frank,
we would have but a single question:
where have all the things gone
that are willing to shoulder our guilt?
winding thread me, spinning top you.
From: shearsman (56 / 2003)
dinge
dinge
die dinge sind heute irgendwie einsamdie dinge sind wie vasen ohne freunde
sind wie das buffet hier mit seiner schweren
platte an die wand gestellt und stehngelassen.
haben die dinge, wollen wir wissen
denn keine anderen dinge zum spielen?
hat man den dingen denn nichts, aber auch
gar nichts gegeben, was sie halten können?
doch wenn wir einmal ehrlich wären
würden wir nur eines wissen wollen
wo die dinge geblieben, die unsere schuld
auf sich zu nehmen gewillt sind.
fadenförmige ich, kreiselförmiger du.
© 2004, Monika Rinck
Poems
Poems of Monika Rinck
Close
things
things today are somehow lonelythings are like vases without friends
like the sideboard here with its marble
slab stood against the wall and left there.
what we want to know is: don’t things
have other things to play with?
have things been given nothing, not the
slightest thing, to hold on to?
but if we were perfectly frank,
we would have but a single question:
where have all the things gone
that are willing to shoulder our guilt?
winding thread me, spinning top you.
From: shearsman (56 / 2003)
things
things today are somehow lonelythings are like vases without friends
like the sideboard here with its marble
slab stood against the wall and left there.
what we want to know is: don’t things
have other things to play with?
have things been given nothing, not the
slightest thing, to hold on to?
but if we were perfectly frank,
we would have but a single question:
where have all the things gone
that are willing to shoulder our guilt?
winding thread me, spinning top you.
From: shearsman (56 / 2003)
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