ALFRED LICHTENSTEIN
471
my man. One shot himself. One jumped into a swamp. [am guiltless....One
went mad. One kicked me. Most went away as though nothing bad had
happened....You, blue-eyed sorrowful face beneath me, oh, would that
you were my man, that [ might bloom in you. Are you my man in whom
[ blissfully sink-"
And the actor sang to the student as they wrestled: "I am the actor
Schwertschwanz, the nun, the lecher. In all the bodies in which I have
drunk, I sought you . I have become a drinker. Out of longing. I have poi–
soned my blood out of love. How meaningless it would be if I-half
dead-found you now. I have looked for you too long to find you yet."
Then Maria Mondmilch called out as she fell on him: "Little
Schwertschwanz, do you love me-" And already intoxicated: "He does
not love me."
The man fell back in utter indolence. The student spat on his collar.
Rammed the hat on the head of the spineless man. Pressed a gold coin in
his hand. Threw him out.
While the actor Schwertschwanz, trembling with desire, went about
searching for the right whore, Maria Mondlich sat over a thick anatomy
textbook. She looked at the drawing of a completely naked man. And
howled like a dog at the sea.
Translated
by
Sheldon Gilman and Robert Levine
