To the Duke of Leipzig

We present this work in honor of the 75th anniversary of the poet’s death.

Else Lasker-Schuler
1869 ā€“ 1945


Your eyes have perished;
You have been so long at sea.

But I too
Am lacking a beach.

My temples are made of shell,
Weeds and sea-stars hang on me.

Some day I want to rove
With my aimless hand across your face,

Or be a lizard on your lips
Curling up in the thrall of love.

Incense streams out of your skin,
I want to celebrate

And bring you all my gardens.
My heart breaks out in blossoms everywhere.

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