Strangers raised low walls
in the fields outside the city
so a watch is set up
but nothing happens
It's maddening
Some lock themselves in their houses
The guards no longer show up
Every now and then, someone stands
at the gate shouting: Cowards, cowards!
And every now and then, someone slips
away, almost staggering, a fist
clutching the keys to their house
We are on guard
sometimes startled by each other
by hurried footsteps in the street
Dec 13, 2025
Dec 13, 2025 at 3:53 AM UTC
Strangers raised low walls
in the fields outside the city
so a watch is set up
but nothing happens
It's maddening
Some lock themselves in their houses
The guards no longer show up
Every now and then, someone stands
at the gate shouting: Cowards, cowards!
And every now and then, someone slips
away, almost staggering, a fist
clutching the keys to their house
We are on guard
sometimes startled by each other
by hurried footsteps in the street
Four poems by Frida Vogels:
October 5th, 1962 - They lacked nothing
October 5th, 1965 - One resorts to what one has already tried, is never
November 18th, 1965 - The betrayal lured him
August 28th, 1966 - He who is abandoned is to blame, he who finds himself alone one morning
Collection "Trench Walking: Self-portraits"
