Here come my night thoughts On crutches, Returning from studying the heaven… What they thought about Stayed the same,

And the one that’s got it in for y… Mister, that keeps taunting you In an old man’s morning wheeze Every time you so much as glance a… Or blurt something in your defense…

On the road with billowing poplars… In a country flat and desolate To the far-off gray horizon, where… A man and a woman went on foot, Each carrying a small suitcase.

On the first page of my dreambook It’s always evening In an occupied country. Hour before the curfew. A small provincial city.

A New Version: 1980 What is that little black thing I… in the white? Walt Whitman One

Great are the Hittites. Their ears have mice and mice have… Their dogs bury themselves and lea… To guard the house. A single weed… Until the spiderwebs spread over t…

With only his dim lantern To tell him where he is And every time a mountain Of fresh corpses to load up Take them to the other side

You must come to them sideways In rooms webbed in shadow, Sneak a view of their emptiness Without them catching A glimpse of you in return.

The obvious is difficult To prove. Many prefer The hidden. I did, too. I listened to the trees. They had a secret

I liked my little hole, Its window facing a brick wall. Next door there was a piano. A few evenings a month a crippled old man came to play

Shoes, secret face of my inner lif… Two gaping toothless mouths, Two partly decomposed animal skins Smelling of mice-nests. My brother and sister who died at…

Millions were dead; everybody was… I stayed in my room. The Presiden… Spoke of war as of a magic love po… My eyes were opened in astonishmen… In a mirror my face appeared to me

O crows circling over my head and… I admit to being, at times, Suddenly, and without the slightes… Exceedingly happy. On a morning otherwise sunless,

A world’s disappearing. Little street, You were too narrow, Too much in the shade already. You had only one dog,