Now and then it happens
that somebody shouts for help
and somebody jumps in at once
and absolutely gratis.
Here in the thick of the grossest capitalism
round the corner comes the shining fire brigade
and extinguishes, or suddenly
there's silver in the beggar's hat.
Mornings the streets are full
of people hurrying here and there without
daggers in their hands, quite equably
after milk or radishes.
As though in a time of deepest peace.
A splendid sight.
By Hans Magnus Enzensberger (b. 1929)
Originally in German, translated by David Constantine.
*
I was reading a collection of poems published on the London Underground while on the MRT (so very appropos!) when I came across this little gem.
This is a little poem; it's not one of those epic, take on life/death/ancient mariners and albatrosses type :) But I like the little poems - they're so good when you need some laughter and whimsy.Looked through photos from my recent trips and I'm thankful for so much grace - good times with friends, music and so much good food. Counting blessings is a good indoor pastime when the haze strikes :)
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