Berlin, in time

Through the street of Kreuzberg
or the Unter den Linden, Berlin
you see it only next to the old postcards
put on the rotatings of the souvenir shops,
to the books of photography thumbed at the bookstalls
without any purpose of purchase,
to the wrinkles of few people walking by or to the matt
studs of some punks.

Everywhere you look, all is fresh built
otherwise you can assist to a Friday night
dressed with the work of labours
perfectly able to get tired.

In front of a bureau mirrors, you see
a young red army soldier just shooted
by a sniper hidden on the next building
vanished years ago, and you distinguish
the missing shots on the doorposts
of the opposite street door
survived longer than the adjoining streets
and other inhabitants.

On the Potzdamer Platz the first traffic light
of the world stands over, or its copy.
A demonstration of the socialist government
is waiting there for a nazist parade to cross by
late for the burning of some white books
still unread.

The traffic is directed by a young american officer
from his look-out standing in the middle
of the no man's dust – here he sees:
the Kaiser William II Hohenzollern going into
his favourite hotel suite
opened on the street by the bombs of the years to come
surrounded by women whose name
he has already forgotten
while from the subway of the U-Bahn
– right next to the Hitlers’ summer bunker –
dozens and dozens of people are coming out
which are not thinking:
«That was east. That was west».

Torn down in a moment
the walls cannot be left
everyone brings a single little brick
colorful painted and interlocking.
Out of space
the city can be reassembled
only in time.

Originally posted in Italian on May 12, 2008 at 0:54