The out-of-work painter sketches the ghetto / emptied of its inhabitants. / The painting is filled with objects. / The absence of the living is only temporary / and hints at the most delicious mysteries. / The “somewhat overstocked zoos” of pre WWII Europe. / Zeppelins are required. Liftships leave every day. / We all took pretty ponies up the golden stairs to the sun. / Extraordinary visions all last night. / Along the lake of Silvaplana, / not too far from a certain powerful pyramidal rock near Suler / I was given the envelope. / Into the teacup, quickly, my friends! / The cup (as the mirror shows) / is indeed the cracked yellow one / Otto Frank is now holding in his trembling hands / as the Nazis march down the little street. / But little teacup does make it through! / And the silence and dust are so dear to us.
Later the teacup is filled with the eyelashes of owls. / A wind comes and we waft through the night.