| Poem Title | First Lines | Period | # Lines | # Reads |
| A Barkeeper's Coarse Complaint | It's enough to make me throw the chair through the panes of the | | 20 | 192 |
| A Lieutenant General Sings | I am the Division Commander, | | 19 | 159 |
| A Poor Man Sings | Those were fine times, when I still | | 7 | 165 |
| A Trouble-making Girl | It's certainly late. I must earn something. | | 36 | 156 |
| After Combat | In the sky the howitzers no longer explode, | | 14 | 160 |
| After the Ball | Night creeps into the cellars, musty and dull. | | 11 | 162 |
| Afternoon, Fields and Factory | I can no longer find a place for my eyes. | | 8 | 168 |
| Ash Wednesday | Yesterday I still went powdered and addicted | | 15 | 149 |
| Bad Weather | A frozen moon stands waxen, | | 29 | 185 |
| Capriccio | Here is the way I shall die: | | 20 | 149 |
| Cloud | A fog has destroyed the world so gently. | | 12 | 183 |
| Cloudy Evening | The sky is swollen with tears and melancholy. | | 12 | 156 |
| Dreaming | Ah, but who wouldn't want to drive a car forever | | 14 | 154 |
| Elegant Morning | The street looks like eternal Sunday. | | 11 | 157 |
| Evening | Houses stand stiffly next to their fences. | | 6 | 144 |
| Falling in the River | Drunk, Lene Levi walked | | 32 | 153 |
| Farewell | It sure was fine to be a soldier for a year. | | 12 | 165 |
| Farewell | Before dying I am making my poem. | | 10 | 157 |
| Girls | They cannot stand their rooms in the evening. | | 8 | 164 |
| Going for a Walk | Evening comes with moonshine and silky darkness. | | 8 | 157 |
| Hugo von Hofmannsthal's Barber | I stand this way on cloudy winter days | | 39 | 153 |
| In the Tuberculosis Sanitarium | Many sick people are walking in the garden | | 11 | 159 |
| Interior | A large space - half dark... deadly... completely confused... | | 8 | 162 |
| Into the Evening | Out of crooked clouds priceless things grow. | | 8 | 152 |
| Invasion | Decline already | | 10 | 177 |
| Kuno Kohn's Five Songs to Mary | So many years I sought you, Mary | | 50 | 141 |
| Kuno's Nocturne | Every day, when it gets so very dark | | 12 | 142 |
| Landscape | With all its branches a slender tree casts | | 8 | 168 |
| Landscape | Like old bones in the pot | | 8 | 140 |
| Landscape in the Early Morning | The air is gray. Who knows something good for soot? | | 14 | 160 |
| Lonely Watchman | City and beloved are far behind. | | 8 | 155 |
| Love Song | Your eyes are bright lands. | | 6 | 162 |
| Monday in the courtyard of the barracks | The heat sticks closely to the gun and to the hand. | | 23 | 151 |
| Moonscape | The yellow mother's eye burns up there. | | 8 | 160 |
| Morning | And all the streets lie smooth and shining there. | | 12 | 164 |
| My End | Half hands hold my fate. | | 5 | 166 |
| Now of course | Now of course I put on my straw hat. | | 8 | 151 |
| Pathos | You don't love me... I have never appealed to you... | | 14 | 137 |
| Peace | In weary circles a sick fish hovers | | 12 | 155 |
| Period | The deserted streets flow in gleaming light | | 8 | 151 |
| Prayer before Battle | The troops are singing fervently, each for himself: | | 24 | 171 |
| Prayer to People | I go through the days | | 8 | 151 |
| Prophecy | Some day - I have signs - a mortal storm | | 16 | 159 |
| Rainy Night | The day is ruined. The sky is drunk. | | 24 | 168 |
| Reflecting upon a Human Lung in Alcohol | Without horror you devour dead flesh every day. | | 13 | 139 |
| Return of the Village Boy | In my youth the world was a small pond, | | 8 | 143 |
| Romantic Journey | Thousands of stars twinkle in the gentle sky. | | 18 | 159 |
| Rubbers | The fat man thought: | | 7 | 142 |
| Signs | The hour moves forward. | | 16 | 160 |
| Smoke on the Field | Lene Levi went out in the evening, | | 25 | 177 |
