From Germany, Sonja sent me a Bertolt Brecht poem. The cartoon on the opposite side goes with the poem in an odd way–both of them being about not being able to DO. I believe the translation of “Na toll” is an ironic “Oh great!”
I sit by the roadside
The driver changes the wheel.
I do not like the place I have come from.
I do not like the place I am going to.
Why with impatience do I
Watch him changing the wheel?
The poem raises a good point. Why do we have such trouble living in the present moment? We are always looking forward or back.
Can we send you our own poems even if they’ve already been published?
Of course, send any poems you want. I would appreciate them!