A Perspective View of Dresden, the Capital City of Saxony
David Goldstein

The quoins lock tight around you

in the dream where you are made of menilite

and I am a blue tent.


The delicate engraver

died long after completing his vision:


four spires, a bridge,

soldiers on charade,

a cloud in the form of a tree,

a square prism of space

forcing the air out of all directions.


You locked up all the Meissen china

before I arrived.


Dresden, why do you fear me?

It is deep midnight

although you think it is spring.


Repugn, and live!

Live, city of the barred soul,

Live, bright river,

Live, boycott!


Three Jews to settle at each railway station.


Dresden, my balk, my privation.