ARTICLE 1
The state consists of a legislative, an executive and a judicial power. The judicial power organizes itself and functions independently of the legislative and executive powers.

ARTICLE 2
The people who are in this country have equal rights and are treated equally in equal cases. The state does not take into account personal aspects such as beliefs, preferences and physical characteristics.

ARTICLE 3
In the event of a violation or alleged violation of article 2, the state investigates the facts and acts in such a way that they are submitted to the judiciary for assessment.

ARTICLE 4
Unequal opportunities are eliminated as much as possible by the legislator, both in current cases and preventively by organising public order in accordance with article 2.

Chaos every day:

the weather, the people, and --


I keep sorting out.

Listlessly I push

myself on the campsite fence --


back and forth again.

It is simple: right

is the side of the hand with --


the thumb on the left.

Eyes that are swimming

behind very thick glasses:


fish under the ice.

As if sweet Eve ate

the apple and handed over --


the core to Adam?

Peace, in a bed
in Amsterdam, kneeling
or with clenched fists

eternally awaited, preserved
in hearts and thoughts
about people who behave
differently than you wish
people who have to take care

of their well-being and can
only dream their visions
cannot realise these even
with combined efforts
The world is too big for that

Close by you can smell the wind
and go along with the seasons
Close by you can, within
the limits of your needs
safely open up to another

They are free, the birds

upon the gown of the state --


free to fly around.

The beams of light are

extinguished by the dense rain --


and there's no hissing.

I lie wide awake,

listening attentively --


to no sounds at all.

Do I want to know

your suffering to get some --


idea what mine is?

I keep weighing up

what is good for me, do I --


want to know or not?

Her glance has wounded

me deeply, it pierced my heart --


oh, arrow of love!

No one cries or yearns

anymore, about love: look --


under Folklore.

'You haven't changed at all!'

He laughs at his compliment --


that is a question.

Each and every love

can run its course, as long as --


there is a channel.

Praying is feeding

yourself with the energy --


that is everywhere.

Our love is over,

however, never forget --


that it has been real.

Every day I look

at the landscape, so unreal --


if one doesn't go there.

When you share my pain

you don't know where it ends, you --


suffer limitless.

I am a tourist

where you still live, where I used --


to be family.

In high-tech sweatshirts

the joggers are running trails --


of expensive scents.

We sing and that's how

we make a very good time --


out of the waiting.

As if everything

revolves around me I see --


people flashing by.

Our cherry orchard

is full of glitter-garlands --


Do the birds party?

A flowering shrub

at the monastery gate:


butterflies greet me.

We're not together,

but write the more lovingly --


'You're so dear to me!'

It is still so new,

I'm disconcerted, sitting --


here waiting for you.

He is here, at home,

wherever he is absent --


though still known by us.

Winter evenings at

home, a faint light from outside --


faint sounds blowing by.

Well, what my age is?

I have many and waver --


Which one shall I choose?

What are her feelings

for me? Well, I could ask her --


but that is risky.

Happiness, what's that?

It has many names, little --


of them is correct.

Foreigners test us:

are we really as caring --


as we think we are?

The fluctuating

flood-mark, a boundary of --


dry seaweed flowers.

Sorry for the smell,

the fact is, I ate onions --


It's my period.

The geese: vigilant

next to their grass-green droppings --


Sated in the sun.

Party-time today,

the world turns yellow: the stars --


my heart and my love.

I like to lie on

the floor, thinking, with a book --


upon my stomach.

A friend does not beat

around the bush, she's honest --


which can be painful.

I pull the curtain

open, just to stall for time,


and study the fog.

He is cool-headed

in e-ve-ry joke he makes --


he is serious.

Heaven allures us,

a scent of higher honey --


draws us to full height.

The road has lost us,

we have left it, over there --


it's looking for us.

I escaped from my

armour, naked I feel: what --


is outside of me?

Going higher and

higher, beyond the best view --


into the cold night.

We dream of something

new, suddenly a new path --


in the well-known woods.

Green on green, the grub

eats its way to the calyx --


to change colour there.

It is a full moon,

music sounds from the café --


I'm not one of them.

The toad is looking

for water, its moist **** smells --


like warm silage grass.