Dieter Roth. I hokli ur snjo, 1958

Poem by Einar Braga:

In an ephod of snow
nothing has changed
on the beach
the lamb sleeps
in the shadow
of a halled cross
munching between naps
on a salted seaweed
then
a sharp blade
is hit
on its neck
the butcher
drinks politly
from the gullets
open
cup of live
and sings
innocent am I
from the blood
of this animal
where the church stood
before
are hoarse
organ sounds howering
deep bass
of the sherriff
narrow voices
eunuches
beardless on jaws
begin in antiquity
on earth
over the gray mouses
which snuggle
motherly
to unhaired youngsters
in the foundation of the sacristy
the priest
three cubits height
he is risen
stands
in an ephod of snow
by the neeling bench
broken
holds his cold
heart
in the hand
hands it through
an open window
into the heat
by the cooking lady
who takes care
of the old house
by the brook
the lady
flushes gently
the blood
from the muscle
under the crane
squeezes
the exudate from the compartments
the kingsbite
she eats herself
but throwes
unfortunate ears
and pericardium
to the dog
they look
long into the eyes
satisfied and filled
the young man
who drowned
his pregnant
fiancee
in the river
where it falls
into the whool pond
he stands
behind iron bars
of the window
in a striped shirt
and tones
let the children
come
to me
our cat
homeloving
he
was not spared
he hangs
out on the plank
in a very tight
snare
foam in his mouth
the claws out
and broken eyes
they stare
on awful big
candles that hang
out from the
house roof
nothing has changed

28 x 28 cm (11 x 11 inches)