Come in, dear wind, and be our guest You too have neither home nor rest.

Here today we huddle tight As the darkest heathens might The snow falls chilly on our skin The snow is forcing its way in. Hush, snow, come in with us to dwell…

The rain Never falls upwards. When the wound Stops hurting What hurts is The scar.

Marie Farrar: month of birth, April Died in the Meissen penitentiary An unwed mother, judged by the law, she will Show you how all that lives, lives frailly. Y…

Long time he lay upon the sunny hill, To his father's house below securely bound.

Poor little foal of an oppressed race! I love the languid patience of thy face.

We hear the wail of the remorseful winds In their strange penance. And this wretched orb Knows not the taste of rest; a maniac world, Homeless and sobbing thro…