A Church without a Structure

There is no structure.
No Design.
For my life is not in German
Or in Hebrew.
Floating in and out,
Crawling out to a new undefined being.

And for a stranger, what is being?
No one knows his structure.
It is hard to explain throughout,
For yourself you can’t design,
Neither in Hebrew
Nor in German.

For those who live in German
Tormented by their being,
All in all, it’s no less hard in Hebrew,
Even though they seem to have an opposite structure -
The vowels and the signs -
Clashing strangers shouting out!

The sun shines over the Rhine, your inner Jew comes out;
A walking German -
Paces in front of you - feathered hat is carefully designed -
Looking into your being -
Questioning your foreign structure:
“Nose, clothes, cane, all in Hebrew!”

So what about this guilt in Hebrew?
From me it will never come out.
The two of us are sitting in a church without a structure.
My friend is German.
This guilt defines his being,
But for me there is no design.

My friend whispers in gothic words: “there is design”
I say, “Not in my Hebrew”
“You and I are the same being”

I say, “If we are, then let’s walk out”
“But if we walk through the church’s door, I’ll be a foreigner, no one speaks German”
I say, “I wish the walls would collapse, the final perfect structure”

On our way out we understand its false design
We both scream in Hebrew and in German
Higher being is the complete destruction of the soul’s structure!