Kölsch[1]

Kölle Alaaf![2] I miss the echo in the streets, the crowds on Rudolfplatz and Neumarkt[3], the oompa pa of familiar Fastelovend[4] songs and cries of ‘Kamelle!’[5] as sweets hailed down. You helped me dress up as a clown. I drank cold Kölsch, ate salty Pommes mit Mayonnais’.[6] You taught me the words to ‘Mer losse d’r […]