I don’t love a fatal outcomes, I never get tired of life, I don’t love any time of year, In which I am sick or I drink. I don’t love open cynicism, I don’t believe in being trusting, and even less - When a stranger reads my letters, By glancing over my shoulder. I don’t love when it’s half-way Or when they interrupt me. I don’t love when they shoot in the back, I’m also against shooting from a benchrest. I hate rumors in the form of a version, Or worms of doubt, a needle of honor... Or when someone is always against fur, Or when they beat iron against glass. I don’t love overconfidence - It’s better should the brakes fail. I’m annoyed, that the word honor has been forgotten And that honor is now a slander to the eyes. When I see broken wings - I have no pity and for good reason: I don’t love violence and helplessness I am pity the crucifiction of Christ. I don’t love myself, when I act cowardly, It annoys me when they beat up the innocent. I don’t love when they climb inside my soul, Even less, when they spit on it! I don’t love stockmarkets or arenas - There they exchange a million for a rubel... So what if there are big changes be up ahead - That I’ll never love!
© Peter Struwwel. Translation, ?