Set out to the gardens of her ladyship
On Saturday: traveled along
over Prussia's highways
chock full of chrome and steel cohorts
Surrounded by the droning freedom of filthy rich subjects—
always aware of the dark-red evening sky
and the sharp dry wind before a storm.
Oh then I followed her with glances into the garden
and she
like a queen she walked through the light
her flowers to inspect
and with the exquisite poise of three raised fingertips
to raise each blossom: elevating them slightly like phalli
So gently you can't feel it, not perceive
and lighter than it comes to your thoughts in the evening
so without pain
oh, how I shall dream after the
thunderstorm has passed
dream as dew in light refracts when faced with flowers.

Translated by Brian Currid