In July, the sun is still high when there are no thunderstorms – and before autumn sets in, there are a few words to say…
If you falsify facts
In order to propagate
Your noble ideals and principles,
To make the world better …
… Then you might as well
Give it up.
Because with the truth,
Goodness also dies.
* * *
The World is a swanky madhouse,
Full of idiots who only think of themselves.
And so they do very successfully
By ruining everything around them.
If it‘s not a sin – cause they deny all sense,
It is a shame!
The shameful disgrace of our time
Is a lack of responsibiliy,
Responsibiliy that is bound up
With our freedom and prosperity.
But yet we practise ignorance, disrespect
For the past, the future and the present.
And in the present we must act,
Because this is the time when we live:
But we ignore those who need our help
And build a vain house of cards, vanity
Made of well-formed phrases and stats
That soothe our atrophied conscience.
Hey, once we will be cursed for abusing
Our resources and talents in this way!
And a simple hell is just not enough
For all the world‘s injustice.
* * *
Better not think about it
And don’t hope too much
For good things never came
To you from the outside.
Envision a star that cannot be hurt.
Imagine a world within.
When you’ve been used so often,
When you’ve been maltreated so often,
When you’ve been forgotten so often
Then, after a long, never-ending day
The silence of twilight is better
than the ostensible noise
Of the noonday mighty.
* * *
Often we ally ourselves with
Many things. We bring much
Burden with us. We often stay on
handles. With the broomsticks
We sweep our backs, turning;
Seven steps down to the doom:
Some people get scared;
Abysmal. Not for long,
And we’ll be looking
Down. Beyond! The suffocation
Tricks us. We entangle
Our whole house with mind
But the mosaic knocks us
Back. The door bounces open, slams shut.
And often only seemingly fits
A keypart into the parlour.
Rarely do we live, we often enough first baptise into the pit
And cast flowers on it.
If the key fits,
The coffin opens.
* * *
Some evil arises only from
Because good intentions are
Simply not enough.
Others and worse arise
From the impure pursuit
* * *
Something can be done
Something can be doneIn this imperfect world,
It can be made better,You can make it better,
But with sincerity and thoughtfulness,
With prudence and a sense of empathy,
With deep compassion instead of superficiality.
We need openness and imagination
To create new ways.
What really does not help us is
self-centred actionism and,
Above all, lies and half-truths.
* * *