Berlin Poem by Ulrike Almut Sandig

NEWS ABOUT THE GERMAN LANGUAGE 2026 AD
Berlin. if it works I'll be a field full of
rapeseed, give cover to deer and shine like
thirteen oil-paintings laid one on top of the
other. if it works right now, I'll be foam on the
syrup of iraqi dates, cubes of turkish honey,
syrian poetry, a geometric form worn smooth
and round like pebbles, meadow flowers,
bonbon-mouth, don't spit it out: I am the
pidgin of the heavy lads with the glossy, black
locks, that deal out their rhymes in delicate
bombs, what'ya gawping at: no one here will
go to the dogs, but the doves. (if it doesn't
work, let me forget my language. je suis a field
full of monoculture, give bother to steer and
turn my head. though, truth be told, je suis no
longer my own Heimatland). but if it works
we, that's all of you and me, will sing a
lullaby, rhyme in unison as if a single mouth
full of rapeseed, we'll be liquid glue on white
paper. we'll be light and heavy. but more than
that, we will be.