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We’re more often jovial than filled with hate and loathing,
But if we have to make a choice not for the feeble,
We’re bound to favor to be clad in wooden clothing,
People! people!
They’ll try to press us not to miss out on a thing:
“Come on,” they’ll say, “you’re still so much in store now.
You’ve only reached the point where life begins!..”
And after that they’ll say, “It’s either-or now.”
Either beaches, feasts and seeing different places,
And even ships filled up with goods to overflowing,
Coaches, horses, private views, days at the races —
Or just simply to be clad in wooden clothing.
And they’ll be jovial or filled with hate and loathing,
They’ll represent kind judges or jesters steeped in evil,
But they’ll propose us to be clad in wooden clothing,
People! people!
They may be even kind to propose us cigarets:
“Come on,” they’ll say, “you certainly need to smoke now.
But you haven’t even begun your living yet!..”
And after that they’ll say, “It’s either-or now.”
Just one inhaling makes existence brighter,
So perfect thoughts come to the brain when smoking.
We need to light up, how we need to light up!
But what we’ll choose is to be clad in wooden clothing.
And they’ll say so kind words, “Now all depends on your choice —
There’s on the silver plate a life that’s long and gleeful...”
But we’ll refuse it — and they’ll put us to the torture,
People! people...
1967.
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