Note for the Files, by Michael Kruger
At night I again heard
the screams of the birds,
and the grass listened in.
Armistice, loaded
with a live word,
an enduring one. For 50 years
we’ve been fed by Hitler;
it’s time for the others
to eat, and we’ll watch
their ugly convulsions,
a fork in each neck.
At night I again heard
the screams of the birds,
the winged epic poem
on Angst.
TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN BY RICHARD DOVE
From “At Night, beneath Trees” by Michael Kruger (George Braziller: 90 pp., $12.50)
Start your day right
Sign up for Essential California for news, features and recommendations from the L.A. Times and beyond in your inbox six days a week.
You may occasionally receive promotional content from the Los Angeles Times.
