To the old buddies
A poem by Thomas Klingberg
Illustration: Petrus Akkordeon

Oh, friends,
i remember
with dusty thoughts
when a thunderstorm unleashed
about us
and we
too young well
and poor in illusions
the fragments of our glass tears
with shovels into the cold ovens < br> < br> The rain did not stop

But our longing burned
a hole in the sky
And in our hearts
a deep scar

The sky is no longer grey for us.
For the fathers of many of our friends
it is now completely
without colours

[1993]