We grew in sheep structures Poem by Claudia Gabler

We grew in sheep structures.
The next door neighbors hit their floral limits.
Between the blades of primary eggs, blown up as affluent rabbits.
Hats, gold embroidery and again and again: a first Eames.
So much pomp invites you to linger.
- -
By now we were hard,
bathed for hours on end in a pool
of good-looking lymph researchers.
Some came here out of purely contemplative reasons,
they had to prove themselves with valid viruses.
- -
The vision of sun and hair in the grass
clearly had living character for many visitors.
Partnerships could be sealed as the start of a cross-species infection.
A life in Q-fever.
Many brought along grilled goods out of unhinged gratitude.

Translated by Bradley Schmidt