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[Please scroll down for an English translation.]

Keine Hoffnung toter Träume:
Ich dreh mich nicht mehr um mich selbst.
Ich lebe zwischen Streichhölzern
Und glaubte, mir gehört die Welt

Warum soll ich die Wunden lecken,
Die Zeichen meines Lebens sind?
Ich denke oft an stille Post –
Vielleicht hörst Du mir doch mal zu.

Und abends geht die Sonne auf,
Weil ich es will in meinem Traum.
Antworten sind Gift für Seelen,
Weil die Fragen sie erdrücken.

Denkst Du oft an mich beim Schlafen?
Ich weiß nicht, ob das wichtig ist.
Ich bereue nur, Dich nie gefragt zu haben:
Vermißt Du eigentlich Spanien?
___________
ENGLISH TRANSLATION:

No hope of dead dreams:
I do not revolve about myself any longer.
I live among matches
And presumed the world belonged to me.

Why should I lick the wounds
That are marks of my life?
I often think of Chinese whispers –
Perhaps you will listen to me once.

And in the evening, the sun rises
Because I want it so in my dream.
Answers are venomous to souls,
Since questions stifle them.

Do you think of me often in your sleep?
I do not know whether it matters.
I only regret never to have asked you:
Do you ever miss Spain?
Souleater Apr 2021
Unverhofft der Tod getarnt als Dieb.
Kassiert ein unschuldiges Leben ein,
musste die Beerdigung noch schlimmer sein?
Sie sagten:"sei einfach lieb"

Zwingt mich dazu selbstverrat zu begehen,
könnt nicht mal zu euren eigenen Fehlern stehen
Mein Schweigen war euch den Verrat Wert
meine Gefühle nicht, weil es euch nicht schert

Seht nicht meine Wut
Seht nicht die verzweifelte Glut
Seht nicht was ihr mir damit antut
Konsequenzen unter'n Teppich kehren
wollt um jeden Preis euer Ziel gewähren
meine einzige Option, ist den Kontakt zu verwehren

Bin nicht wie gewünscht die adrette
spiel gewiss nicht weiter eure Marionette
Will frei sein, hab meinen eigenen Kopf
doch ihr zieht ihn nur zurück am Schopf

Merkt nicht einmal den emotinalen Machtmissbrauch
versuche meine Gedanken zu ordnen im weißen Rauch
Verachte euer Schweigen und die Familienhierarchie
weiß bei euch nicht mehr weiter, weiß nicht wie

Würde gerne weiterhin ein Teil in eurem Leben sein
doch weil ich nicht schweige, passe ich nicht ins Familienbild rein
schiebt mich mit euren Taten aus eurem Leben
die Stimme in mir laut schreit, wird dauern zu vergeben
In Gedenken an Marcel und dein Statement das mir heute die Kraft dazu gibt
Mateuš Conrad Jun 2018
death has a pardon,
bound to nothing,
except life...
   and life?
                 a closure
for the experience
of life, within the confines
of what death pleases,
and what
death pleases: is life!
welcome,
to the abodes of
      the eternal womb!
   past the impossibility of time
via physics,
through history, as scuh,
only via
   an accolade in epitaph,
to escape a dating of
beign born, and subsequently
dying...

make stance:

rather than stand
                                      naked;
i tree befell...
          lingered
as if uprooted...
firm to amass both trunk
and root...
   and such...
          lose believable artefacts....
culminating in
                 i guess
you can only fathom
solipsism...

                coin does the flip;
man?
                  the lampoon
of gesture to disguise
a made delay lampooning..

mea culpa mea culpa
mea culpa mea culpa mea culpa
mea culpa....

    your fault i die?
           but no fault, i live... yes?!
i have no fault to be allowed
an allowance to die,
yet i have...
          a case, a matter,
                                          to "live"!

what life, is this?!
            was leben ist dies?!
mozart-*******-haven?!
            
i guess there's but one answer:

                          lebe(n) ist: dies.
Mateuš Conrad Aug 2021
i never felt such a terrible pain in my heart...
until: this very day... the 27th August 2021...
the pain was so strong i felt a heart-attack was
imminent... what else?!
did someone die... was a second Napoleon born?!
it truly felt like a labour of sorts:
circa 9pm: through to circa 10pm...
who has been born? my heart ached...
i blamed it on the excesses of alcohol consumption primo...
but i reminded myself:
when you cycle into London
you're bound to come back to the suburbs with
grit on your forehead... that same grit
you breathe in...


to hell with happiness!
   zu hölle mit fröhlichkeit!
if i were happy: loose my northern inhibitions...
lose my melancholic outlook on life
i'd loose all curiosity for life!
ich würde alles neugierde für leben!
i don't want to be happy: by happiness i'd stretch
a synonym: content &... oblivious...
i want to be tinged with a layer of sadness...
why oh why? why o why?!
i'm mortal: aren't i?!
i'm not here for an indefinite purpose like: A...
most definitely: that's THE point!
those camel jockeys of Dubai are happy...
but look how stupid they are...
thinking themselves immortal...
running dry the dinosaur-juice...
all the Pakistanis abhor the Arabs...
that the whole world congregated onto London
i'm laughing at myself:
so... where's the part where i walk across
the Thames? the whole world's here!
it might: just might... be a pinch of salt
on old wounds: anyone reviving the flight
of zeppelins? just saying... the whole world is here...
something spectacular is supposed to happen:
i can feel it...
me... i stopped a 20 mile cycle route to St. Paul's
for a black coffee... a *******: h'americano...
some sugar... a sly 50ml of whiskey i dropped like
a bomb... read a few pages of a book...
lazed... looked... lion-esque: copper-neck that
i am... these few months of the year...
that it's sad that i have to beef up writing in no
introspective: self-critical for some... assurance of:
well someone ought to love me...
if no one's willing: best do it myself...
but i'm still stretching it to the love of the english
zunge...
if the Turkish ******* thinks i'm Ing-leash...
i must be... living on the other side of "wall"...
where the Germans and German-esque tribes begin...
and where the Slavs... cornered the Huns
and the Mongols into Crimea...
i guess living among the Ing-Leash: am i?
the whole world is here...
i look the part... then again: if you have a Turkish
barber... and **** a Turkish ******* from time
to time... who wouldn't: "look, the, part"?
grr... this language... it's a second fetish...
my first fetish being: the ancient one...
since i scribble it... methodologically in a way
that proves that: i can't speak it...
perhaps i just troll it...
    since... old habits die hard... historical inheritance
doesn't... ******* Schvabs... Krzyżak...
but thank **** for that...
for a minute there i thought i was living in Germany...
which is so bothersome to think
of the English as... Germanic peoples...
for the first time in my life i'm having
trouble in thinking the English are...
very closely related to... zee Germans...
some etymological starting points...
but... they're not... they're... not?!
like an Australian isn't a... because of his...
newly invented accent?!
there's nothing more insufferable than
a H'american accent...
           sorry... can't be done in my ear:
to my ear: sounds like...
an elephant stepping onto a clarinet...
squashing it... then aiming with the *******
rather than the trunk to play it...
exclaiming: look! saxophone works!
its "****" (the accent's quality) might have
an appeal on a man in... Iraq... or... Ukraine...
i hear a woman speak with that accent i'm like:
guess who...
no... really... it's that sing-along... (the) guess who...

reason with me: o gods...
   for this is how i acknowledge you
acknowledging me!
whenever you send me a dream!
like Hamlet i too could:
be bounded to a nutshell: perhaps
even in a nutshell...
i have no concern for being
a king of infinite space:
   just give unto me my complete self
eternally bound:
changeless - forever stone upon
stone placed...
were it not for bad dreams?!
how about dreams at all!
i'm starving from a lack of dreams:
am i not ambitious enough
am i too common to be graced with
clues in the form of dreams?!
how one's day unfolds when
one can recollect a dream for
an hour in the morning!
i woke into this glorious day
having dreamt of being
given... about a dozen if not more
types of apples by a most
agreeable woman...
she sliced each apple into
quarters...
i dream so rarely that it has started
to bother me: insurmountably!
summer is finally coming to a close...
i anticipate September:
like each year: in this most glorious
of lands... a September's Indian Summer
in England...
as a joke: since the children are going
back to school...
glorious land...
immeasurable land of depth and hope...
agreed! ol' saxon met
a ******* Frenchman...
it flows more freely... never mind...
ol' cousin... neighbour of the continent...

who wouldn't want to love living among
the Ing-Leash...
i'd want to: i want to live among these people
so much that i don't want to live with my...
ugh... "******" genetically same...
cousins of the Polacks...
i'm tired of hearing about the second world war...
i'm tired of being someone lodged in between
the Germans and the Russians...
making middle ground with the.... Lithuanians...
the left-over Jews...
the Estonians: who?
the Romanians... Bulgarians...
the rest of the Yugoslavs...
to hell with huddling together to bring up some...
wait... wasn't communism first implied as...
hijacking the 19th century romance
of pan-Slavism...
pancake the Germans tribes together...
one will speak Dutch... the other the phlegm
of Flemish... the other...
Gall... and G'ah-Ul... stating: came the Romans
came Charlemagne...
elder scrolls with the Scandinavian roots...
i'll sooner pretend to be German than...
ha ha! ally myself with the ******* goat-*******
that the Russians are...

let's reimagine... an urban Pakistani
shop-owner... i'm so indistinguishable from him...
i'm almost gagging to ask him:
so... you're an anglophile?
i would ask the same question: thoroughly...
before the altar of the bereft would-be Jihadi wowing-rho-
rhinos...

perhaps a medley of lyrics in: alt schvabe might
aid my little project:
i'm content with sadness:
it allows me to reiterate...
long gone this past forever refreshed: arrived at:
rekindled:

nun erst lebe ich mir werde
       sit min sundic ouge siht...
das reine land und auch die erde

die eisenfaust am lanzenschaft...
   hey'ah hey'ah...
              so klingt uns seine kunde!

ich: halbherz...
          
             wir sind des Geyers schwarzen haufen..
hi-y'ah! ***!
und wollen mit tyrannem raufen; hi-yah: ah: **!
spieß voran, drauf und dran
               setztz auf klosterdach den roten hahn...

looking for angry young men:
perhaps also: ha-ha-ite?!

    not much fan of a Hamlet.... but please...
point me to the aisle where
Macbeth is sitting...

das reine land und auch die erde...
der man so viel der ehren giht...
mir is geschehen: worum ich stets bat...

Niemy człowiek...
niema mowa: gotów...
    
schöne länder ***** und herrlich...

perhaps the Ing-Leash don't moind...
to hell with the Ing-Leash...
they have their own...
African-bonanza to... mind...

among the Turkish prostitutes i look
English... among the English i look
H'American...
among the Germans i look:
Germany...
among my own folk i look...
i don't really care for my own genetically
****** folk...
hello Calypso...
               among the English...
come to think of it...
perhaps i spent too much time with
the Brits... with the Scots... the Welsh...
to care... what the supposed mainstream...
dictates?! aren't the Irish a separate / separatist
"plague" of people?

i just ask because... oh sure... me... local...
me local goes as far as...
ha ha ha: Cornwall! comfy retirement!
vide cor meum!
i'm here on a loan...
one can almost forget the Irish...
romancing the German tongue...
when one is pretending it to come out...
"it": post-Germanic... Saxophone-Pomeranian...
best felt choke joke among the Celts..
yo... Yuri... Gaga... the Brit?
Ing... so.. no IRA leash?
because... the Welsh... oh... right... they still
keep their tongue... no?

on these isles... one tends to...
forget... the anglo-saxon ambivalence
of: strutting it straight: yo...
this peudo-first: Berliner....
                   scoop up the Scots & call 'em
baron.
Mateuš Conrad Sep 2021
i never felt such a terrible pain in my heart...
until: this very day... the 27th August 2021...
the pain was so strong i felt a heart-attack was
imminent... what else?!
did someone die... was a second Napoleon born?!
it truly felt like a labour of sorts:
circa 9pm: through to circa 10pm...
who has been born? my heart ached...
i blamed it on the excesses of alcohol consumption primo...
but i reminded myself:
when you cycle into London
you're bound to come back to the suburbs with
grit on your forehead... that same grit
you breathe in...


to hell with happiness!
   zu hölle mit fröhlichkeit!
if i were happy: loose my northern inhibitions...
lose my melancholic outlook on life
i'd loose all curiosity for life!
ich würde alles neugierde für leben!
i don't want to be happy: by happiness i'd stretch
a synonym: content &... oblivious...
i want to be tinged with a layer of sadness...
why oh why? why o why?!
i'm mortal: aren't i?!
i'm not here for an indefinite purpose like: A...
most definitely: that's THE point!
those camel jockeys of Dubai are happy...
but look how stupid they are...
thinking themselves immortal...
running dry the dinosaur-juice...
all the Pakistanis abhor the Arabs...
that the whole world congregated onto London
i'm laughing at myself:
so... where's the part where i walk across
the Thames? the whole world's here!
it might: just might... be a pinch of salt
on old wounds: anyone reviving the flight
of zeppelins? just saying... the whole world is here...
something spectacular is supposed to happen:
i can feel it...
me... i stopped a 20 mile cycle route to St. Paul's
for a black coffee... a *******: h'americano...
some sugar... a sly 50ml of whiskey i dropped like
a bomb... read a few pages of a book...
lazed... looked... lion-esque: copper-neck that
i am... these few months of the year...
that it's sad that i have to beef up writing in no
introspective: self-critical for some... assurance of:
well someone ought to love me...
if no one's willing: best do it myself...
but i'm still stretching it to the love of the english
zunge...
if the Turkish ******* thinks i'm Ing-leash...
i must be... living on the other side of "wall"...
where the Germans and German-esque tribes begin...
and where the Slavs... cornered the Huns
and the Mongols into Crimea...
i guess living among the Ing-Leash: am i?
the whole world is here...
i look the part... then again: if you have a Turkish
barber... and **** a Turkish ******* from time
to time... who wouldn't: "look, the, part"?
grr... this language... it's a second fetish...
my first fetish being: the ancient one...
since i scribble it... methodologically in a way
that proves that: i can't speak it...
perhaps i just troll it...
    since... old habits die hard... historical inheritance
doesn't... ******* Schvabs... Krzyżak...
but thank **** for that...
for a minute there i thought i was living in Germany...
which is so bothersome to think
of the English as... Germanic peoples...
for the first time in my life i'm having
trouble in thinking the English are...
very closely related to... zee Germans...
some etymological starting points...
but... they're not... they're... not?!
like an Australian isn't a... because of his...
newly invented accent?!
there's nothing more insufferable than
a H'american accent...
           sorry... can't be done in my ear:
to my ear: sounds like...
an elephant stepping onto a clarinet...
squashing it... then aiming with the *******
rather than the trunk to play it...
exclaiming: look! saxophone works!
its "****" (the accent's quality) might have
an appeal on a man in... Iraq... or... Ukraine...
i hear a woman speak with that accent i'm like:
guess who...
no... really... it's that sing-along... (the) guess who...

reason with me: o gods...
   for this is how i acknowledge you
acknowledging me!
whenever you send me a dream!
like Hamlet i too could:
be bounded to a nutshell: perhaps
even in a nutshell...
i have no concern for being
a king of infinite space:
   just give unto me my complete self
eternally bound:
changeless - forever stone upon
stone placed...
were it not for bad dreams?!
how about dreams at all!
i'm starving from a lack of dreams:
am i not ambitious enough
am i too common to be graced with
clues in the form of dreams?!
how one's day unfolds when
one can recollect a dream for
an hour in the morning!
i woke into this glorious day
having dreamt of being
given... about a dozen if not more
types of apples by a most
agreeable woman...
she sliced each apple into
quarters...
i dream so rarely that it has started
to bother me: insurmountably!
summer is finally coming to a close...
i anticipate September:
like each year: in this most glorious
of lands... a September's Indian Summer
in England...
as a joke: since the children are going
back to school...
glorious land...
immeasurable land of depth and hope...
agreed! ol' saxon met
a ******* Frenchman...
it flows more freely... never mind...
ol' cousin... neighbour of the continent...

who wouldn't want to love living among
the Ing-Leash...
i'd want to: i want to live among these people
so much that i don't want to live with my...
ugh... "******" genetically same...
cousins of the Polacks...
i'm tired of hearing about the second world war...
i'm tired of being someone lodged in between
the Germans and the Russians...
making middle ground with the.... Lithuanians...
the left-over Jews...
the Estonians: who?
the Romanians... Bulgarians...
the rest of the Yugoslavs...
to hell with huddling together to bring up some...
wait... wasn't communism first implied as...
hijacking the 19th century romance
of pan-Slavism...
pancake the Germans tribes together...
one will speak Dutch... the other the phlegm
of Flemish... the other...
Gall... and G'ah-Ul... stating: came the Romans
came Charlemagne...
elder scrolls with the Scandinavian roots...
i'll sooner pretend to be German than...
ha ha! ally myself with the ******* goat-*******
that the Russians are...

let's reimagine... an urban Pakistani
shop-owner... i'm so indistinguishable from him...
i'm almost gagging to ask him:
so... you're an anglophile?
i would ask the same question: thoroughly...
before the altar of the bereft would-be Jihadi wowing-rho-
rhinos...

perhaps a medley of lyrics in: alt schvabe might
aid my little project:
i'm content with sadness:
it allows me to reiterate...
long gone this past forever refreshed: arrived at:
rekindled:

nun erst lebe ich mir werde
       sit min sundic ouge siht...
das reine land und auch die erde

die eisenfaust am lanzenschaft...
   hey'ah hey'ah...
              so klingt uns seine kunde!

ich: halbherz...
          
             wir sind des Geyers schwarzen haufen..
hi-y'ah! ***!
und wollen mit tyrannem raufen; hi-yah: ah: **!
spieß voran, drauf und dran
               setztz auf klosterdach den roten hahn...

looking for angry young men:
perhaps also: ha-ha-ite?!

    not much fan of a Hamlet.... but please...
point me to the aisle where
Macbeth is sitting...

das reine land und auch die erde...
der man so viel der ehren giht...
mir is geschehen: worum ich stets bat...

Niemy człowiek...
niema mowa: gotów...
    
schöne länder ***** und herrlich...

perhaps the Ing-Leash don't moind...
to hell with the Ing-Leash...
they have their own...
African-bonanza to... mind...

among the Turkish prostitutes i look
English... among the English i look
H'American...
among the Germans i look:
Germany...
among my own folk i look...
i don't really care for my own genetically
****** folk...
hello Calypso...
               among the English...
come to think of it...
perhaps i spent too much time with
the Brits... with the Scots... the Welsh...
to care... what the supposed mainstream...
dictates?! aren't the Irish a separate / separatist
"plague" of people?

i just ask because... oh sure... me... local...
me local goes as far as...
ha ha ha: Cornwall! comfy retirement!
vide cor meum!
i'm here on a loan...
one can almost forget the Irish...
romancing the German tongue...
when one is pretending it to come out...
"it": post-Germanic... Saxophone-Pomeranian...
best felt choke joke among the Celts..
yo... Yuri... Gaga... the Brit?
Ing... so.. no IRA leash?
because... the Welsh... oh... right... they still
keep their tongue... no?

on these isles... one tends to...
forget... the anglo-saxon ambivalence
of: strutting it straight: yo...
this peudo-first: Berliner....
                   scoop up the Scots & call 'em
baron.

— The End —