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My red blood is dripping, slowly flowing,
My panting heart slowly calms down in peace,
I lie here peacefully on a narrow stretcher,
And my hazy eyes gaze into the distance.
My red blood is dripping…
My precious heart, my handsome soldier son,
I write this letter with my blood to you.
Since you’ve had to take the Kaiser’s shilling
our world has turned red of a fiery hue.
The big decisive battle…
[ . . . ]
I never loved properly . . .
A little Judaic boy,
I was the only one around
To shiver in the steppe wind at night.
Like a sleepwalker, I walked along tram tracks
To silent summer cottages…
On a night like this if a shudder were to shake your flesh as though a nightmare
had severed your sleep I could have risen and quietly walked to the kitchen
to write you a poem that would bring you…