Your characteristic was silence.
Be silent, when Hannes kept his sermon,
his lecture, lang, longer, the longest.
Meanwhile, Jeanne abseiled down from a branch
and looked for a hole underground.
mole, this.
No anger should spin like this, so that
sie dich jemals trifft, no wrong, not you!
Who didn't realize that?
But the ungrateful family!
Doesn't take enough and doesn't give enough!
Not even by asking!
It is known: the giver has much more to give!
So she just looks for other buyers
one, in need are many, there and there.
What kind of buffoons are these, actually, the own?
autistic, maintain the relationship, only with yourself.
And yet need a stage.
One has to hold out for that. She often puked.
Then the world got bad too.
The surrounding, that needs those like her; tough,
mute in giving, the truly strong: slowly secreted.
Another elderly woman is crouching in her chair and knitting.
How many times would her body have, become as thin as a line,
on this chair because place? But not your great silence?!
title for a poem: who is silent, it gets to the bone.
Or: Only the bones witnessed.
Or: she, who did not move aside, finally broke her—-
Jeanne roped down from the branch and ducked into a hole.
Jeanne digs another hole for tears. (cultivation: “Mama!”)