No one in the world is as enamored with nature as the Germans. As soon as the rain accidentally stops, they rush outside into their beloved environment, ready to slip on wet leaves and catch a cold, or in summer, suffer from heat exhaustion and sunburn. All misfortune and suffering comes solely from nature, and what do the Germans do? They do what they love most: they identify with the aggressor, merging with the wild boar. Merging with nature? For the poet Thomas Gsella, that is not an option: one must resist the wild boar with poems, lamentations, and tirades. Against puddles and ticks, birds and meadows, hedgehogs and roots, against water, gorges, trees, against the sun, moon, and stars, and yes, of course, against clover too: humor is when you laugh anyway. But clover must be cursed. It forces us with its shadow.