The German countryside 
does not lament.
It keeps an arbor of green 
for those who watch
from a yacht
at center of the river 
young girls
hanging laundry on lines
and cheese draining whey 
through a net bag. 
Houses where the Resistance 
entered by stone steps
into damp rooms with wet walls. 
We pose as if nothing happened 
except sturm und drang. 
Those taken hostage 
in their pajamas 
merely agreed to board trains 
and sit in shit-filled straw.
They were not fed caviar, remember?