Poem
Volker Braun
O Chicago! O Dialectic!
Now, Brecht, did you let your cigar go out?In the course of the earthquakes we provoked
In those states that were built on sand.
Socialism takes its hat, never mind, her’s Johnnie
Walker.
I can’t grab it by its principles
Which are falling out anyway. The warm streets
Of October are the chilly routes
Of market economies, Horatio. I wedge my gun in
my cheek
And there it is, your nothing-much-worth-
mentioning.
O CHICAGO! O WIDERSPRUCH!
O CHICAGO! O WIDERSPRUCH!
Brecht, ist Ihnen die Zigarre ausgegangen?Bei den Erdbeben, die wir hervorriefen
In den auf Sand gebauten Staaten.
Der Sozialismus geht, und Johnny Walker kommt.
Ich kann ihn nicht an den Gedanken festhalten
Die ohnehin ausfallen. Die warmen Straßen
Des Oktober sind die kalten Wege
Der Wirtschaft, Horatio. Ich schreibe den Gum in
die Backe
Es ist gekommen, das nicht Nennenswerte.
From: Lustgarten
Publisher: Suhrkamp Verlag, Preußen
Publisher: Suhrkamp Verlag, Preußen
Poems
Poems of Volker Braun
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O Chicago! O Dialectic!
Now, Brecht, did you let your cigar go out?In the course of the earthquakes we provoked
In those states that were built on sand.
Socialism takes its hat, never mind, her’s Johnnie
Walker.
I can’t grab it by its principles
Which are falling out anyway. The warm streets
Of October are the chilly routes
Of market economies, Horatio. I wedge my gun in
my cheek
And there it is, your nothing-much-worth-
mentioning.
From: Lustgarten
O Chicago! O Dialectic!
Now, Brecht, did you let your cigar go out?In the course of the earthquakes we provoked
In those states that were built on sand.
Socialism takes its hat, never mind, her’s Johnnie
Walker.
I can’t grab it by its principles
Which are falling out anyway. The warm streets
Of October are the chilly routes
Of market economies, Horatio. I wedge my gun in
my cheek
And there it is, your nothing-much-worth-
mentioning.
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