|
Zweiweltenkind
It is not a war
of the worlds
as the gardener’s world
is overpowering
all of the cosmos
these days
would the writer’s world
start a fight
it wouldn’t stand
a chance
it is merely
coexisting
uttering
every now and then
small outbursts of creativity
ever hopeful
to grow as big
as the other
sometime
become
a louder voice
become as wild
and colourful
as the growing jungle
outside.
Frühling
Die Hände sind wieder
braun gefurcht
und ewig trocken.
Risse an den Fingerkuppen
erinnern an dürren kahlen Boden.
Der Garten macht es ihnen nicht nach.
Nur dieses Jahr spüre ich sogar
die Kälte in den Knochen.
Mit 31 beginnt der Körper schon
sich zu verbrauchen.
Aber die gefurchten Hände
einverleibte Erde
stets mitgetragener Garten
sind ewig besonders.
Die Erinnerung
liegt an den Glashausmauern
und dort wo wir sie hingeräumt haben
Überraschend kommt mir
die erschlagene Hoffnung entgegen
wintergrün und herbstwarm
Vogelfutterreste am Boden -
Sonnenblumenkernschalen
und Taubenfedern
- jeder das Seine
alles grün in grau
bis auf die Erinnerung an Schnee
an den Glashausmauern
und dort wo wir ihn hingeräumt haben.
friendship
The night doesn’t often
offer comfort
I’m thinking while washing
ants out of my hair
The day brought lightness
and friendship
where the night only had
broken solitude in store
The garden knows
where to lead me
it provides all the answers.
A friend is a friend is a friend.
waterlily haiku
Picking yellow waterlily leaves
in the sun and the heat.
The lice are crawling on my legs.
Nachts
zirpen Grillen
eine Explosion
ins Ohr
Wolken ziehen
am Mond vorbei
zunehmend
leuchten Wolkenbilder
Fetzen-Träume
in der Himmel-Galerie
die immerwährend
veränderliche
Ausstellung der Wunder
bilder.
A house is falling into my hands,
and land, plenty of land.
Sometimes it feels strange,
too much for myself,
mostly it feels right
like my path to tread,
certainly it feels in the right hand.
Young people will come
and help me I hope
and learn what they need to learn.
I will be there,
to garden, to write,
to learn and take care,
to live what life offers me there.
And from what it feels like
for me right now
there might come a time
when I leave again.
When somebody else
could take over the place
and I will be free again.
July 2019
In die Nacht hinein
sitz ich
ans Glashaus gelehnt
den Horizont im Blick
versuche in den Worten
Paul Celans
die richtigen Bilder zu sehen
den Sinn zu finden
die Gedanken überhäufen sich
lauschend den Vögeln
versinke ich in den Worten
dem Horizont im Blick
die Gedanken überhäufen mich
die Kröten, der Igel, die Vögel,
Maikäfer, Grillen beleben
den verfinsternden Horizont
die Gedanken treiben mich an
gelegentlich Blicke ich auf
den Rauch
manches lese ich zweimal
um die Erotik zu erkennen
der Tod ist dem Bett so nah
die Bilder sind so schön
wie das Lesen im Freien
während der Tag endet
sich verändert
und die Nacht hereinbricht,
die mir die Worte stielt
und mich mit dem zurücklässt,
was verblieb.
dwelling
In buying this land
I’ve grown.
Now it is overgrown
and overgrowing me
the house, garden and work
it grows away
not yet from me
rather over my head
more like I’ve fallen asleep
and like a fairy-tale princess
woken up to see
the roses overgrew
the castle and me
though there’s no prince
to kiss it all away
it stays
and though I like the jungle
that it is
I guess all this thick growth
slows down the flow
and that’s what’s tiring me.
confined
However can one captivate
oneself like that
and break upon
the hopelessness of it
and rage against everyone else because
one wants to share it all
but knows already that
all won’t understand.
In this solitude
but also in the unasked advice
of the listener
is just the same impossibility
of flight present.
Self-confined
I even mend the fence
that’s holding me.
One wants to put the young trees
like the children
to the door frame
and paint lines
together with year dates.
For comparison,
who grows how much
and for remembering
how small they were once.
After all, they grow so fast.
In April 21
the first two limes are foot-high,
the third reaches my belly button,
the dogwood knee-high, like the hazels
the ilex and the prunes,
the black pine a little above the navel,
the red pine breast-high,
the chequer tree has my lip height,
the apple is as big as me,
the pear one forehead higher,
the dawn redwood 1,5 heads higher than me,
the amur maple 2 heads,
the birch is already a metre higher than the door frame
and escapes my measurability.
Leise, sanft und elegant
wie ein Drache
schwebt und tanzt
die Spinnaheid
im Schlafzimmer.
soil on the hands
that hold the cigarette
the smoke doesn’t mind
I met a wolf
she spat her milk
in my face
scratched me
and left me burned
by the sun.
Sunsets.
Every evening they present themselves
beautiful, amazing, mind-blowing
and leave you
unsatisfyingly act-less
with only one possible thing to do –
watch.
I feel tired, my body aches
and sitting here on my own
in the not yet renovated living room
all of a sudden feels entirely meaningless.
Companionless.
imagine
to have a positive view
on this world
I know
it is a lot to take
but just imagine
there is you
and you form your world
to what it is
and becomes
you do
what you want
what you think
to be true
and right
that is all there is
this world
can be so happy
and bright
for you.
Imagine
we all have a positive view
on our world.
We love our lives
we share our food,
our knowledge, work,
share everything we’ve got.
We trust
each other,
trust our children
to become who they are
and we ourselves
can be who we are,
we are good and loving,
trusting and free
we just are
that is all there is
to be.
Just look
what beautiful places
we have
and see the beautiful faces
that are
in front of you and me
everyday
and the happiness glowing
in people’s eyes
the beauty of the sky
the richness of the land
it is all a merry, colourful dance
and we all can dance
if we want to
move
join the groove
smile bright
laugh wild
look into people’s eyes
believe and trust
and by all means,
love.
|