Of course, these water lilies, at any time
a citeable atmosphere; that is not the way
I was brought up, but later we
were even able to talk about them, think of strawberry fields,
later much more was possible.

Suddenly even a group of rushes has meaning,
a clump by the lake shore we did not want
(for all their meaning) to talk about. No picture
can stay neutral; a picture is what
every spy passes on, our silence is no help at all.

Add to that a coincidence. Walking past
a telephone box in which someone keeps pushing
in coins for as long as coins are there. Who
did you, outside, want to speak to; or were you
waiting, counting, fantasising?

Once again, lake shore below, and from time to time
we could see wind, movement in the rushes
and felt nothing, a few metres away
and plainly visible to everyone. To whom, everyone was of course
not there; so who is painting water lilies today?

Before, caught up in any one
of the systems, we would not have been alive any more;
to grasp that take the Wannsee for example. But
it is not that easy either, simply
in the style of history, done afterwards.

Afterwards, or I say: to begin with: this has
no future, pictures of water lilies; better
small change, keeping on pushing it in, what does it matter
who is speaking to whom, we are all close by.

Translated by Catherine Hales