Reading Brecht in Berlin

The tattered cord can again become knotted. It holds but it is torn. Perhaps we’ll face each other again but there, where you left me, you’ll not meet me again. I’ve been in Berlin long enough to start reading Brecht for pleasure, although not in the original German. http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-tattered-cord-der-abgerissen-strick-translation-with-original-german/

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The Man Watching

I can tell by the way the trees beat, after so many dull days, on my worried windowpanes that a storm is coming, and I hear the far-off fields say things I can’t bear without a friend, I can’t love without a sister The storm, the shifter of shapes, drives on across the woods and […]

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