We are sensitive, hidden
within our own weight,
howling like the wind
while words cling
to our throats.

Truths sneeze through the streets. The lindens
destroy the weak immunities.

The transformation of the wretched continues…

We walk silently through the shadow-city,
illuminated are only the sorrowful faces

of those who carry pain within.
And the clouds are like people—each
bearing their own weight.

Only silence lifts our hats.