Albert Ostermaier's new poems arrive just in time, as they urgently and vividly convey what the future was and how we can regain it. Against the sluggish monotony of the Corona present, against the quarantine of "I live," he presents vibrant poems that illuminate everyday life, conjure hope out of nowhere, and entice us to embark on new journeys: the horizon sets its seven sails.

He confronts the demands of the time here with refreshing stubbornness: the world is out of joint, but you say, we will not conform, and with an infectious zest for life: just look, grass has grown over your heart, roll it up and smoke it. And in passing, he outlines a new arithmetic of love that not only overrides the laws of mathematics.