Student Days - Poem by Herbert Nehrlich
From Stachus home,
at five, in time for dinner
the Fall Of Rome
had been the lecture of the day,
with all this learning
I's surely getting thinner...
I will explain a little incident, so may
I have your absolute attention
just picture your young self back then,
the crack of dawn, hungover from a night,
spent in the basement with the spirits,
and half asleep in lectures, all concerning
the same old crap, too boring here to mention.
The Strassenbahn was bursting at the seams
though they were durable, made from Krupp steel,
all students paid a pittance only, we were poor,
and on occasion we would thus repay (our merits) ,
the special treatment, some of you good people might
not find rewarding or appreciative, though I feel
that some hilarious action is, for boredom, one good cure.
So we would normally start half a day before,
eat seven hundred grams of beans with sauerkraut,
washed down with buttermilk, highly fermented
a garlic sausage from the Serbian Butcherstore.
During the lectures we would naturally just sit about,
and this was quite conducive to our airy goal
I think it was my grandpa who actually invented
this laissez-faire and laissez faire évaporer,
at five the lecture hall was closed and we dispersed
and well aware of our well-studied role,
admission to the driver's metal basket, tiny coins,
then pushing to the centre of the tram, hold on.
Grasping the fabric handles overhead we had arrived.
The concert, although silent by design, rehearsed
a thousand times before, (last year in Bonn) ,
we now relaxed the necessary muscles of our loins,
I also need to mention here that there was no more space,
as all of Munich seemed to be on these late trams,
the windows closed to keep the alpine air out in the streets,
a signal given, passed between the perpetrators
(each one had cleverly slipped into a strategic place) ,
and let me tell you this may well have sounded
like the Silence of The Lambs, they called for ventilators,
wherever flatus of a certain noble vintage finally meets
the stagnant air of overfilled and unsuspecting public transport
most victims will be taken by surprise and act astounded,
the magic though about this is not inhalation, not at all,
out of an overfilled and stuffy, noisy, yet unsuspecting city-train
if you had been there, it's the fastest way to clear the masses
not by using what the educators would have, (just their brain) ,
as I've demonstrated here, we did succeed with our clever asses.
Comments about Student Days by Herbert Nehrlich
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
Mary Elizabeth Frye