Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
The Thousandth Regiment - 11. "O warm-spice mercy in a moving dress!"
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11. O sanfte Anmut in bewegtem Kleid!
O Frauen, die sich in den Abend schmiegen!
Die Straßen find wie träumerische Wiegen
Erfüllt mit lauer, blauer Zärtlichkeit.
Wir aber müssen dumpf die Nacht verliegen,
Kaserneneingezwängt und stickend nah,
Dunstüberbrütet und besät mit Fliegen,
Und fühlen nur: Ich, Staub und Kot, bin da!
Und unsre junge Brust voll Blut und Rosen,
Die noch in Kindschaft spielerisch vibriert,
Saugt Qual und Qualm in jähen Stößen ein.
Und langsam macht den Müden, Atemlosen,
Der Schritt der Wache, die vorbei marschiert,
In stillem Takt die armen Augen klein.
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11. O warm-spice mercy in a moving dress!
O womanhood, you slouch embracing evening!
The hips of the streets sway like dreaming cribs
Stuffed with limpid, blue-bruised tenderness.
But we're obliged to lie dumb in the night,
Barracks hooked in and embroidered tightly closed
Incubating a vapor laced with flies
Left for us to feel: I, shit and mud, am stuck!
But our young chests filled with blood and roses
Still playfully oscillate in our childhood,
Suckling setbacks and smoke in sudden hits.
And which sluggishly makes the languid, breathless,
While the timed pace of the watch, trudging past,
Leaves exhausted eyes to mutely narrow.
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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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