Hallo, hallo, where do you belong, where, where?
No place inside Germany’s borders
No place inside borders at all
No, beyond them
Beyond what is supposed to be thought
Beyond old houses and suburban buildings and armchairs
The snow may look like ash
But if so, then still new and fresh
Covering everything, but no, what was covered, disappeared
I am at home where you no longer need to be at home
Where the imprint of my body in the snow stays undeformed
Wherever a snowball flies
Or at least in the place where we dare to speak about it
At least where everything has not yet melted and steams poisonously
I like flags for their fabric, and cities for their streets
But most of all I like the snow that covers them
Free, white, unbuilt-on areas
No borders at all