He that knows nothing, loves nothing.
He who can do nothing, understands nothing.
He who understands nothing, is worth nothing.
But he, who understands, who loves,
notices and sees...
The more insight you have into things,
the greater the love...
Who thinks all fruits ripen at the same time as the strawberries,
he doesn't know anything about grapes.


Paracelsus

Alderpale (or about "modern morality")

Alderpale, crowning your fervor,

it juts into the scree of shattered hope.

There the waxy hand of the hypocrite waves,

over the deathbed of the imagination.

The pale reflection of madness,

touches my earthly ego,

clay jugs full of "ashy" dreams

I'll scatter them over the precipice

of my soul.

My soundless cries,

hanging strangled in the labyrinths

of being.

Keys lie hidden,

behind the dead eyes of the

dark priest.

Wordcorpses, trampled by tongues of iron,

flicker in the cynical glow of

Objection,

without any shine of truth.

Starwide my hands reach out,

everlasting the search,

for the unspoiled, the unadulterated,

but I can't discover anything like that,

just the ice-blue look of hate,

shines clear through the night...

by msw. 

ENDWORLDS

Lightly, words gliding over sandy times, scattered lies,

heavily rests the truth above the dying land,

empty horizons, empty promises and bleeding hope,

sold fate, sandy time slipping from my hand.

Mighty, the trumpet's echo. The world hungers for lifeblood.

Suns crying black light, black light, endworlds...

Singing, the columns of space burst, gods labors, but no one,

nobody breaks the arc of time.

Lost, deaf demons, fading pulse,

magical desert-templars pray their song after tomorrow.

Tomorrow, where it fades away the story of the

"nobodies from nowhere"...

by msw.

MORNING LIGHT

Morning light flows from my veins,

in a pulse of thoughtfulness,

cremated spheres of dullness,

foggy, in the background.

Graceful calm spreads over my

mind, pastel-colored thoughts of

fascination,

erotic in their taste,

imaginative in their form.

Minutes of reconciliation. Moments

of collecting my thoughts,

I dive over from the time and

take me at the

waiting hand.

In the pandemonium of being,

I'm gonna be a little bit of me,

and every hour gives birth to a

moment more, and news,

and a piece of the past.

In the labyrinth of the past,

I find a piece of you, and every

elapsed moment carries the writing of us,
and every new hour meets

a new world.

by msw.

Morgenlicht fließt aus meinen Adern,

im Puls von Nachdenklichkeit,

eingeäscherte Sphären von Dumpfheit,

neblig, im Dahinter.

Anmutige Ruhe breitet sich über mein

Gemüt, pastellfarbene Gedanken von

Faszination,

erotisch in ihrem Geschmack,

phantasievoll in ihrer Gestalt.

Minuten der Versöhnung. Augenblicke

der Sammlung,

ich tauche aus der Zeit zu mir herüber und

nehme mich an der

wartenden Hand.

Im Pandämonium des Seins,

werd' ich ein Stückchen Ich,

und jede Stunde gebiert einen

Augenblick mehr, und Neues,

und ein Stück Vergangenheit.

Im Labyrinth der Vergangenheit,

find ich ein Stückchen Dich, und jeder

verstrichene Augenblick trägt die Schrift

von uns, und jede neue Stunde trifft auf

eine neue Welt.

19.01.1987 by msw.

I (am)

The flyer flies through day and night,

the gambler seems to lose the fight,

the wizard changes the diamond's brain

the wise man turns it out of pain.

The dancer 's dancing new ways on the floor,

the lover reach for more and more ...

by msw.                                              sometimes

Wer nichts weiß, liebt nichts.

Wer nichts tun kann, versteht nichts.

Wer nichts versteht, ist nichts wert.

Aber wer versteht,

der liebt, bemerkt und sieht auch...

Je mehr Erkenntnis einem Dinge innewohnt,

desto größer ist die Liebe...

Wer meint alle Früchte würden gleichzeitig mit den Erbeeren reif,

der versteht nichts von den Trauben.

Paracelsus