Thomas Bernhard



Lord let me forget
my soul
and the eyes' torment
and the tired lips' dagger
and the green fires of far cottages
each pond's maw
forget
Lord
my God
this day
which splits my cry apart
which I cry
and many birds in passage
my anger is dismembered
and my blodd gushes
free.



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Benjamin on the Novel vs Storytelling- Information - the novel-information as debased

 From the storyteller:  [this was written in the 1930s, amazing] Every morning, news reaches us, from around the globe.  And yet we lack rem...