This is my cap,
my coat,
my shaving kit
in the burlap bag.
This tin can:
my plate and my cup,
I scratched my name
in the soft metal.
Scratched it with this
precious nail,
which I keep out of sight
of thieving eyes.
In my bread bag is
a pair of woollen socks
and some other things
I don’t tell anyone about,
it serves me as a pillow
for my head at night.
This piece of card I lay
between my body and the ground.
The pencil lead
is my favorite:
by day it writes out lines
that come to me at night.
Dies ist mein Notizbuch,
dies meine Zeltbahn,
dies ist mein Handtuch,
dies ist mein Zwirn.