you are a little horse wagonwith bells on it –merrily tripping horse –the sun glittersin the red face of the driver,white lilacs –happy peoplebabble –men and cigars,wives with coffeeand thermos –Sunday,naturally –
Gustaf Munch-Petersen: other nights
– we set our nets and hooksin filmy stillwater –we fetched them again in the morning –then the water could belike sloping green walls,falling down into dust – – some nights we got a good catch –then the nets lookedlike […]
Gustaf Munch-Petersen: anyway
I stumbled around in darkness,and I felt cold. I had beaten the ones,I cared for. I had stolen from the oneswho wished me well. I was evil and ugly,and no woman would smile at me. and I stared at my impure […]
Gustaf Munch-Petersen: banal
square womanin a window –green rubber apron –starry eyeslook down at a little black dogby a lamppost. –bare blue armssometimesshe is bentover a white cold glossy bucket –she wrings the cloth –white foamy soap-watergushes in fine hard jetsout between red […]
Gustaf Munch-Petersen: the genuine
do not believe,that the softly sounding tonesare from the most delicate strings –rather believethe sharp and cold tones,when strings are tightened too hard –do not believe,that the roaring strokescome from the strongest wings –rather believethe forced calmbefore the cliff rattles […]
Gustaf Munch-Petersen: the conversion
we understood nothing,knew nothing,and we comforted each otherwe doubted together –but one daymy world became clear,and my sky light and warm –that dayI saw,I heard it,and I understood,why the earth before was grey,and why the sky now was light –but […]
Gustaf Munch-Petersen: the sleep
I love you not,but I will come to youone day,when the wind hangs lazily high up above the sun,like a child who has played itself tired – I will come to you on the beach,where the rocks lie like loose […]
Gustaf Munch-Petersen: poor life
there are those,who every night rest on the same branchand only eat out of the right bowl. there are those,who every morning sing the same songand always to the same beloved,always only to one god. there are those,who only follow one […]
Gustaf Munch-Petersen: the fishermen dance at the inn
– you can hear it along the streetand down at the quay:that the fishermen dance at the inn – – and lord my god, how they dancelike large petroleum motorsand barrels on their way down the stairs,it is sturdy legs […]
Gustaf Munch-Petersen: old mothers
– heavy, large, swayingwith thin, cold coatsthe mothers rock into the milk sales,the food courts,the clothing shops –– hasty gazes into oilcloth bags,glossy bags with many five cents,two cents,twentyfive cents –sighing glances in light wallets –careful questions:if there wasn’t something cheaper,smaller […]
Gustaf Munch-Petersen: the meaning of life
I do not workwith my hands,not for the betterment of society –I waste away the daysby thinking endless thoughts.the days, which passemptywithout result –I wander the streetsday after day –I look at humans and doubt —— until now I have not learned to […]
Gustaf Munch-Petersen: untitled
we legionnaires of nakednesswe shall conquer the earthand deliver up humans to life – perhaps our only triumph shall bethe one,which streams from our oozing wounds –perhaps the world shall one day resound withthe stamping of our victorious sandals –