The Love Boat Has Crashed Against The

Our Planet Is Poorly Equipped For Delight. One Must Snatch Gladness From The Days That Are. In This Life It's Not Difficult To Die. To Make Life Is More Difficult By Far.

Gentle Souls! You Play Your Love On The Violin. The Crude Ones Play It On The Drums Violently. But Can You Turn Yourselves Inside Out, Like Me And Become Just Two Lips Entirely?

If You Wish, I Shall Grow Irreproachably Tender: Not A Man, But A Cloud In Trousers!

On The Pavement Of My Trampled Soul The Steps Of Madmen Weave The Prints Of Rude Crude Words.

There’s No Grandfatherly Fondness In Me, There Are No Gray Hairs In My Soul! Shaking The World With My Voice And Grinning, I Pass You By, - Handsome, Twentytwoyearold.