Lissabon

I feel these holes

in my astral shield.

the tides of time

make me sleepy.

but i walk

and see.

this city is beautiful

and strange.

i collect perfumes and smiles,

a scent of power and presence

my mind fills with ships

and poets

with sheer splendour, arrogant,

built on a past of wars

i walk on

meet faces

music

sensuously slurred words

which i cannot understand

just as i don't know

anything here

i listen to the wind

the Tejo slapping the banks

and i know, for each moment

we all pay with blood

Europe was raped

and she bore Minos

who kept a monster

in his maze

now the poor

need to find a thread

to help them out

i know

and you know

there is no garden

for the heart to rest

but for a short time

and time does not exist

for now

i sit in the sun

the coffee is good 

Adeus,Lisboa 

nachts

nachts

aufwachen

nachts

leise tritt

die einsamkeit

über die ufer

kein saxophon,

mein herz schlägt

in einen schwarzen raum,

verstrahlt

die federn

der toten engel

legen sich auf

mein gesicht

ich kann

nicht

mit dir

telefonieren

what do you see

lies

lies

is it revolution

if i don’t want to talk?

is it the language of madness

if I just want to listen to a voice

but not to hear the words?

is it bourgeouis

if I want a hand

to hold

and an arm

to rest?

is it immoral

if I don’t want

to do

anything

at all?

i know

we are here to

communicate

i hate the word

it starts with the church

continues with politics

proceeds into the

world wide web,

there

eaten by spiders

I guess

there is always

somebody

who

defines

communication

i have done so much

i have talked so much

i tried

to

communicate

but what has it taught me

where did I go from there

and why

i am a liar,

i already talked too much