If we sang in the wood (and Death is a German expert) br while snows flies, chill, after so frequent knew br so many all nothing, br for lead & fire, it's not we would assert br particulars, but animal; cats mew, br horses scream, man sing. br br Or: men pslam. Man palms his ears and moans. br Death is a German expert. Scrambling, sitting, br spattering, we hurry. br I try to. Odd & trivial, atones br somehow for my escape a bullet splitting br my trod-on instep, fiery. br br The cantor bubbled, rattled. The Temple burned. br Lurch with me! phantoms of Varshava. Slop! br When I used to be, br who haunted, stumbling, sewers, my sacked shop, br roofs, a dis-world ai! Death was a German br home-country.