A Day, Grey on Grey, and: Sun at the Stove

24 the minnesota review Bodo Morshäuser translated by Michael Mundhenk A Day, Grey on Grey Today the old man opened the door In his eyes before he said anything eighty years went by. Then coffee and particulars. The unions of 1918 — 1 could have spit out, so near. What it was like, two hours up against the wall before Noske's troops, ready to fire. And photographs: his apartment an armory for the revolution which seemed so near . . . This street, when elsewhere there was rubble and barricades: now I knew. What I had read became pale and the old man's face took on color. In the twilight he took off for his flight and held my hand which gave me a presentiment of years that lie ahead of me when I went back to my apartment behind my door. 25 morshäuser/mundhenk Bodo Morshäuser translated by Michael Mundhenk Sun at the Stove The old songs drift through the radio just as they were whistled back then in the streets of Nice, Marseille, Barcelona . . . but you are sitting here with your back to the stove because it's winter and turn the radio up as loud as possible. The window sill gives a performance just for you alone, you see a hitchhiker red wine, clear evening sky and people who were dancing in order to forget themselves, others who were dancing in order to remember . . . and a woman from Holland. She came and went just like the holidays and the time in between is similar to standing on the freeway in rain or heat when everybody's going by and nobody stops and then comes the news. ...