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Let's see now Herbie, some may call me that.
Permission granted to the genuine souls,
it started in the early fifties, Jesus, yes it did,
I'm looking back on a whole string of people,
such wondrous creatures, and they knew
the likes of me, or more specifically, me!
There was Brigitte, I looked up to her hair,
at first it was a pony tail and later 'Bubikopf',
she made me learn the diplomatic art of
let's call it straight deception, I found excuses,
such as many so profound discussions
about schoolwork, English and then Math
and other subjects such as German Lit
and Newton Physics, and Starke Chemistry.
The raison d'ętre was that I could smell her skin,
she was a few years older but I loved her,
and later it was Doris, what a girl, she kissed
as if the world would last just one more second,
a depth of soul and such a mirror of myself,
I think that she convinced me that I was worthwhile.
There are so many, though I do not mean to brag,
it's just that I would like to ask the gods myself
where have they gone these lovely people, tell me where,
it is not fair to have them march to their own drummer.
Perhaps in Heaven they will wait, the lot of them
dressed in Chiffon and wearing smiles of recognition.
Meanwhile I am the master of a certain melancholy
and have reserved a vital portion of my brain
to keep you safe and in my heart past all horizons.
Herbert Nehrlich
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