Gerhard Jung

1926–1998, Zell im Wiesental and Lörrach


Life is not boundless,
Life is a lot, fraught with borders.
From your mother’s dark womb
a cold close ally leads onto
a wreath covered grave.
And at every step and turn
we also drag our boundaries:
borders, to separate us
separate from other times,
differing lives, other folk,
unacquainted with us as yet.

If in life
you choose to take a stand,
stalwart you’ll have to cross
or tight and tighter it’ll get.
Each age is probably in need
of its own boarder crossers!


From: Listen, would you care?, 83