ANOTHER VILLAGE

Another village cannot dance.

Here all eras gather in a crowd.

Either everyone is here

or all is barren,

- the wind brings different ages.

Here the kings hold on to the stairs,

Blue-eyed princes, too young,

exercise their sight.

The wells are so deep,

they turn their bottoms over.

Birds in black boots

change their mind in flight

and inhabit the village.

The Messiah is here.

He can be found each morning

at the grocer’s.

Later he has coffee with the shoe-maker

and plays chess till late afternoon with the watch-maker,

until the wind brings another age,

blows away and changes everything.

In twilight all eyes gaze

into the crackling in the air.

Then the night comes in riding.

No-one knows what happens

when the flames burst out.