The Verse of Alfred Lichtenstein | Page 6

neighbor whom he does not know at all,

And whose house he has always only seen from the outside.

Sometimes, when I am shaving a chin,
Knowing that a whole life
Is
in my power, that I am now master,
I, a barber, and that a missed
stroke,
A slice too deep, cuts off the round, cheerful head
That lies
before me (he is thinking of a woman,
Books, business) from his
body,
As though it were a loose button on a vest--
I am overcome.
Then the feeling came over me... this animal. Is there. The animal...
both my knees knock.
And like a small boy tearing paper
Without
knowing why,
And like students who kill gas lamps,
And like
children who turn so red
When they tear the wings of captured flies,

So I would like to do the same,
As if it were a slip,
To make a
scratch with my knife on such a chin.
I would too gladly watch the
red stream of blood spray.
Spring
A certain Rudolf called out:
I have eaten too much.
Whether it's
healthy is very questionable.
After such a greasy lunch

I really feel
uncomfortable.
But I belch beautifully and smoke
Cigarettes now
and then.
Lying on my heavy belly,
I chirp nothing but songs of
spring.
Longingly, as though on a ramp
The voice squeals from the
throat.
And like an old lamp
The wind blackens the bitter soul.

A Barkeeper's Coarse Complaint
It's enough to make me throw the chair through the panes of the mirror
Into the street--
There I sit with raised eyebrows:
All bars are full,

My bar is empty--isn't that terrific...
Isn't that strange... isn't that
enough to make you puke,,, The damned jerks--the miserable phonies--

Everyone goes right by me...
Bloody mess...
Here I am burning
gas and electricity--
May God and the devil damn me to hell:
Damn
It all... why is my bar the only empty one...
Grumpy, reproachful
waiters standing around--
It is my fault--
Not one damned person
comes to the door--
Cramped in a corner I sit with a hopeful face.

No customers come.--
The food rots, the wine and bread.
I might as
well shut the joint.
And cry myself to death.
A Trouble-making Girl
It's certainly late. I must earn something.
But they're all going right
by today with smug expressions on their faces.
They don't want to
give me a single good-luck penny.
It's a miserable life.
If I come
home without money
The old lady will throw me out.
There is
hardly anyone on the street any more.
I am dead tired and freezing.

I was never so miserable in my life.
I move around here like a piece
of meat.
Finally someone comes over:
An extremely well-dressed
man--
But in this life one can't tell much
By appearances.
He's
also quite older. (they have more money,
Young ones tend to cheat
you.)
We are face-to-face.
I raise my clothes above the knee.
I can
get away with that.
That's the big draw..
Like flies to the light
The
guys are drawn to us goats...
The John is certainly standing over there.

He is staring. He winks. Now I'll go right by him...

I think: he will
give me a big piece of gold.
Then I get drunk in secret on expensive
liquor,
That's still the best: sometime--alone
To be drunk quietly,
for myself--
Or I can buy new shoes...
I won't have to go around in
mended socks--
Or... sometime I won't go out walking the streets.

And take a rest from the guys--
Or... I'm already looking forward to

this...
I'm so happy--
Here comes Kitty.
And scares the man off.
The Drunkard
One must guard oneself ever so carefully against
Howling, without
any reason, like an animal.
Against pouring beer over the faces of all
the waiters,
And kicking them in their faces.
Against shortening the
disgusting time
Spent lying in a gutter.
Against throwing oneself
off a bridge.
Against hitting friends in the mouth.
Against suddenly,
while dogs bark,
Tearing the clothes off a well-fed body.
Against
hurling into any old beloved woman's
Thighs one's dark skull.
A Lieutenant General Sings
I am the Division Commander,
His Excellency.
I have attained
what is humanly possible.
A lovely consciousness.
In front of me

Important people and chiefs of regiments
Bend their knees,
And my
generals
Obey my commands.
God willing, my next command will
be
An entire military corps.
Women, drama, music
Do not interest
me much.
Compared to parades and battles,
That does not amount
to much.
Would that there were an endless war
With bloody,
howling winds.
Ordinary life
Has no charm for me.
Falling in the River
Drunk, Lene Levi walked
In the neighboring streets nightly
Back
and forth, screaming, "auto."
Her blouse was opened,
So that one
saw her fine, fascinating
Underclothing and skin.
Seven horny little
men ran
After Lene.
Seven horny little men chased

Lene Levi for her body,
Thinking
about what it costs.
Seven men, otherwise very respectable,
Forgot
their children and art,
Science and factory.
And they ran as though
possessed
After Lene Levi.
Lene Levi stopped
On a bridge,
catching her breath,
And she lifted her blurred blue
Drunken

glances in the wide
Sweet darkness above
The street lamps and the
houses.
Seven randy little men though
Caught Lene's eye.
Seven randy little men tried
To touch Lene Levi's heart.
Lene
remained unapproachable.
Suddenly she jumped up on the railing,

Turns up her nose at the world for the last time,
Joyfully jumps into
the river.
Seven pale little men ran,
As quickly as they