White nights

No one here,

and the body says: whatever is said

is not to be said. But no one 

is a body as well, and what the body says

is heard by no one

but you.

Snowfall and night. The repetition

of a murder 

among the trees. The pen

moves across the earth: it no longer knows

what will happen, and the hand that holds it

has disappeared.

Nevertheless, it writes.

It writes: in the beginning,

among the trees, a body came walking

from the night. It writes:

the body's whiteness

is the color of earth. It is earth,

and the earth writes: everything

is the color of silence.

I am no longer here. I have never said

what you say

I have said. And yet, the body is a place

where nothing dies. And each night,

from the silence of the trees, you know

that my voice

comes walking toward you.

(Paul Auster)

Geh sorgsam mit dir um,

dich kann's nur einmal geben

und auch nur kurz -

man darf dich nicht verbrauchen

wie einen Rohstoff.

Du bist kein Produkt.

Entzieh dich der Statistik,

du bist wichtig.

Bewahre dich,

weiche der Härte aus,

verweigre dich

den Überflüssigkeiten.

Gib deine Antworten selbst,

stell selber deine Fragen,

gib acht auf dich,

dich gibt es nur einmal.

(Heinz Kahlau)