You give me yours
I give you mine
the flow of the words, the signs, the rhyme
you dance on the surface
intensively fine
in the meantime l’m fishing
pointing, diving
the words come to me easy
or stay away too long
I sink backwards in times
and in time
I guess that’s much rougher
you’re lifted –
I climb (in the same line)
mine is yours, yours is mine

Last night, I had a calm
and open sky
I listened to your songs:
Wave, moon and sand
the stars were bright
and flashed right
into my airy roofground
wonderland
nothing comes without the other
and up is up because it’s not down
more and more –
we’II understand
as much as we hold it
it’s not in our hand
but you give me yours
and I give you mine

I see you in sweet-purple shade
and silversad lies all around
your soul is glooming
underground

but all you do is clearly bound
imagine me whistle
when I cross a public square
and then imagine that you
were there …

Loneliness is rich of doubts
and care
and poor of perfume
and real misery
I know the smell
of a fresh rosebush
but how did it smell
in the 15th century?

I stop to send my thoughts
to you after midnight
end of summer: the street life is over
moon in satellite
I face another day to catch the tiny fish
and a world receiver I gonna get
and I am glad to hear from you
radio waves are reaching far spread
wide responsibility
guess that’s the case
give them sense
open their heart
make them smarter
you’II find me in the inner city
Arabic & Jewish quarter