smashed a blue glass globe which was
standing in a flower bed on a stick
(what´s it called in English - in German
we say Rosenkugel...?)- anyways, she was
much distressed because my father had given
it to her...
So I made this, including two of the
fragments:
And a blue nine-patch for myself, while I
was in the mood...
"Die Erwartung mit einem Bleistift beim Aufsetzen
einen Riß in die Erde zu machen sagst du
ähnle der Erwartung der ersten Männer
über dem Atlantik die ohne Rücksicht auf Verluste
wie Hunde loszogen ihren Herrn auf der anderen
Halbkugel zu suchen Sie ähnelt sicherlich nicht
der Windstille hier auf dem Feld
Es folgt unser gewöhnliches Schweigen
Das Jahr fällt zusammen und der Boden
gefriert im Sturz Ich erinnere mich
an die Vagheit der Wettervorhersage heute morgen
und fühle an beiden Händen während du losläßt
das Scherbengericht des Winds der nur
Hüte herbringt und vielleicht ein paar alte Papier"
(Silke Scheuermann: Beim Scherbengericht steht
der Titel auf dem Stück aus wunderbar blauer
Keramik At an ostracism the title is written
on the piece of wonderfully blue ceramic)
The expectation of tearing open the earth
when putting down a pen you say
resembles the expectation of the first men
across the Atlantic who disregarded any losses
set out like dogs to search for their master
in the other hemisphere it certainly doesn´t resemble
the calm out here on this field
there follows our customary silence
the year collapses and the ground
is frozen in the tumble I remember
the vagueness of the weather forecast this morning
and feel on both hands while you let them go
the ostracism of the wind which only
carries hither hats and perhaps some old papers
4 Kommentare:
Sad/beautiful. A dream of safety. Makes me think of things continually shattering or breaking into smaller parts, we stop to carry the fragments which are seeds.
I went to college with a poet who died very young, the poem reminds me of these lines of his:
I was born on the downhill side,
In early December,
In the light's heavy dip and hesitation.
What a wonderful rescue of a memory! This piece is lovely in so many ways.
Beautiful poem, too.
The poem is beautifully evocative of a time and place.
I don't know that there is a word for the blue glass globe-we have them here, but I don't recall a special name. Sad that it was broken but an inspired, beautiful and very effective means of conservation.The bird elements are lovely.
Thank you all! The dream of safety, yes - and no fairytale birds to care for broken pieces, in "real" life... I like the lines of the Winterkind... Glad the Scheuermann poem is speaking to you, too. She is one of the (few...) interesting german poetesses, I think
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