Es muffelt schon arg nach Fasching / (It reeks strongly of Carnival)
Gedicht / Poem The jester’s mask is bleeding violet wine, A fractured face beneath a paper crown. The velvet snout and geometric spine, Are marching through the hollow, laughing town. Confetti falls like chips of frozen glass, To blind the eyes that stare from purple deeps. The drunken phantoms let the shadow pass, While every … Read more