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The Verse of Alfred Lichtenstein by Alfred Lichtenstein
page 28 of 66 (42%)
Against the mindless, large,
Deadly blue, shiny skies,
The fleshless, dull eyes,
The cursed hands,
Swollen from crying.



Summer Evening


All things are seamless,
As though forgotten, light and dull.
From the sacred heights the green sky spills
Still water on the city.
Glazed cobblers' lamps shine.
Empty bakeries are waiting.
People in the street, astonished, stride
Towards a miracle.
A copper red goblin runs
Up towards the roof, up and down.
Little girls fall, sobbing
From the poles of street lights.



The Trip to the Mental Hospital (II)


A little girl crouches with her little brother
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