Konstantin Küspert: Der Westen

0 :   V O R H E R

Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame
With conquering limbs astride from land to land
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.
«Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!» cries she
With silent lips.

«Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me:
I lift my lamp beside the golden door.»

die freiheitsstatue - freiheit

eine wahnsinnig schlecht als freiheitsstatue geschminkte und zurechtgemachte schauspielerin, wie diese straßenstatuen, stand schon immer auf der bühne und bewegt sich jetzt.
Lady Liberty give me your tired, your poor,
your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
the wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me:
i lift my lamp beside the golden door.
gebt mir! eure müden, eure armen, eure zusammengekauerten massen, die endlich frei atmen wollen, den kaputten abschaum eurer dampfenden ...