Chapter: The hall

The poorest women in Berlin <br />
- thirteen children in one and a half rooms, <br />
Whores, prisoners, outcasts - <br />
hunch their bodies and whimper. <br />
Nowhere is there so much shouting. <br />
There is nowhere pain and suffering <br />
not at all as noted here, <br />
because something is always screaming here. <br />
<br />
"Press, woman! You understand, yes? <br />
You are not there for pleasure! <br />
Don't drag it out for Sid. <br />
There is also excrement in the crowd! <br />
You are not there to rest. <br />
It won't come by itself. You have to do something! <br />
Finally it comes: bluish and small. <br />
Urine and stool anoint it. <br />
<br />
From eleven beds with tears and blood <br />
greets it with a whimper as a salute. <br />
A chorus breaks out of two eyes
of anniversaries up to heaven. <br />
<br />
Through this little meaty piece of meat
everything will go: misery and happiness. <br />
And one day it dies in rattle and agony.<br />
There are twelve others in this room. <br />