Music and making love sounds like a real happy end, and it is,
you can tell from the picture attached: at dawn
the city is especially dead, besmirched with fog, drivers
have to be more careful, drivers have to arm themselves with patience,
that's what the radio says in one of its reliable weather reports:
"overcast skies, fog, cold, and anything you want it to be."

Because if you add death to music and making love, what do you get?
Instead of a punch line you could write "Es muss sein," you'll
be a great man. But no, my friend, you say you're taking care
of rabbits, because they lead interesting lives and and have pretty fur coats.
You can eat a rabbit too, and so we return to
our point of departure. And Ezra Pound writes so beautifully about death:

“Some lads get hung, and some get shot.
Woe! Woe, etcetera.” Finally, ultimately, I can accept
the fact that I'm playing a déjà vu in this disco. My disco is sterile,
it stops and starts with equal speed. A little theater. Ezra Sound.
My disco has OK flow, you can find an easy death here, lethal bounce.
(-------)

Let the Master of Ceremonies tell us later about the rest of death.


tłum. Alissa Zdena Valles