My Blue Piano
Else Lasker-Schüler
1943
At home I have a blue piano,
I, who cannot play a note.
It stands in the gloom of the cellar door,
now that the world has grown coarse.
The four hands of the stars play there
—the moonwife sang in her boat—
and the rats come out to dance.
Its keyboard and the works all busted . . . . .
My blubbering enters the blue of death.
O angels, open…
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