The great, great, great Wolfgang Borchert’s small, unassuming grave in Hamburg.
“Wen die Götter lieben, den lassen sie jung sterben.” (Plautus)
Was hätte er noch geschrieben, wenn er gelebt hätte….
You know, when I was 20 I translated Draußen vor der Tür. And threw out my whole work. It was dreadful btw. But Borchert’s play left its mark on me forever.
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