29.12.10

A couch in New York


Ever feel like watching a lackluster romantic comedy? Well, you never know, once in a while you might. For example, to watch some stars you liked in other films.

This was the reason I recently checked out Un divan à New York (1996, German title Eine Couch in New York, i.e. A Couch in New York) with Juliette Binoche – co-star of Johnny Depp in Chocolat (2000) – and William Hurt, who had impressed me in The Accidental Tourist (1988).

Hurt plays a New York shrink on the brink of a nervous breakdown who decides he needs a change of scenery and trades homes with Binoche, who is an I already forgot what in Paris. Binoche's chaotic place in France's capital is too much of a change of scenery for Hurt (who gets attacked by pigeons, broken pipes and a jealous ex-lover of Binoche's), so he returns home after a few days, only to find that Binoche has taken over treatment of his patients, committing numerous psychology no-nos in her consultations. Strangely though, these broken rules render happy patients, something the good doctor has failed to achieve in all his years as a famous psychotherapist. He becomes a patient on his own couch...

That's how this love story with a complete lack of chemistry begins. But no, wait – it's already begun in Hurt's head while reading Binoche's intimate diary at her place (it looked rather like one of the paperback poetry books from Gallimard). If that ain't another no-no.

How about the acting qualities displayed here? Well, Hurt walks around with a permanently insulted look on his face – could also be a liver problem or constipation –, while Binoche comes off as a likeable airhead. I supppose that's meant to be French esprit.

So, if you're in the right mood for tepid romance and stuff borrowed from perhaps a dozen other movies (American and French), go ahead and watch this one.

24.12.10

Christian Morgenstern / Winternacht

Ein Wintergedicht zu den Feiertagen und zum Jahresende ...

Winternacht

Flockendichte Winternacht ...
Heimkehr von der Schenke ...
Stilles Einsamwandern macht,
daß ich deiner denke.

Schau dich fern im dunklen Raum
ruhn in bleichen Linnen ...
Leb ich wohl in deinem Traum
ganz geheim tiefinnen? ...

Stilles Einsamwandern macht,
daß ich nach dir leide ...
Eine weiße Flockennacht
flüstert um uns beide ...

Christian Morgenstern (1871-1914)

Für die Kenntnis dieses Gedichts danke ich Lyrikmail.

10.11.10

Octavio Paz: In den Gärten der Lodi

In das einmütige Blau
Entstoben den Kuppeln der Mausoleen
– Schwarz, zusammengedrängt, nachdenklich –
Auf einmal
                   Vögel

– Octavio Paz

Aus: Ladera este, Mexico City 1969. Übertragung aus dem Spanischen von Johannes Beilharz (© 2010)

Die Lodi-Gärten sind ein Park in Delhi, Indien. Benannt sind sie nach den Lodi, einer paschtunischen Dynastie, die im 16. Jahrhundert einen Großteil Nordindiens beherrschte.

Octavio Paz war von 1962 bis 1968 Botschafter Mexikos in Indien.

1.11.10

Quadro Nuevo: Reise nach Batumi



Schon mal was von Batumi gehört? Irgendeine Idee, wo das sein könnte?

Seit ich Mittwoch letzter Woche Quadro Nuevo in einem Konzert hier in Stuttgart erlebte, weiß ich, dass es den Ort gibt, dass er im heutigen Georgien liegt und dazu noch historisch belastet ist.

Denn es war irgendwo in der Gegend von Batumi, wohin Jason aus alten griechischen Zeiten auszog, um sich das goldene Vlies zu holen, das von einem bösartigen Drachen gehütet wurde.

Jason, ein kraftstrotzender Jüngling, Abenteuern nicht abgeneigt und vielleicht ein wenig naiv, und einige seiner Kumpels, zusammen die Argonauten genannt, traten eine Mission an, die in heutiger Zeit mit einer Reise zum Mars und ungewissen Aussichten auf eine Rückkehr innerhalb der nächsten siebzig Jahre verglichen werden könnte.

Als Preis winkten ihm ein Thron und eine hübsche Prinzession. Und was tut man nicht alles für einen Thron und eine Prinzessin...

Die “Reise nach Batumi” ist nur eine der Reisen, die auf der neuesten CD von Quadro Nuevo mit dem passenden Titel “Grand Voyage” angetreten werden; unter anderem geht's auch nach Portugal, Antiochia (heute Antakya genannt) und Tunesien.

An jedem der angesteuerten Orte hat sich das Quartett inspirieren lassen, hat dort komponiert und gespielt. Entstanden sind fantastische musikalische Touren, die anzuhören ein Hochgenuss ist.

Diese CD und weitere von Quadro Nuevo sind in Musikgeschäften und im Online-Handel erhältlich, z.B. auch bei Amazon.

– Iself (© 2010)

PS: Neugierig auf Batumi? Wikipedia hat die Antwort.

Eat Art, Stuttgart

Salz oder Persil? Eines der Exponate der Ausstellung Eat Art im Stuttgarter Kunstmuseum. 

Salt or laundry detergent? One of the exhibits to be seen at the Eat Art show in Suttgart.

30.10.10

Trip to Batumi



Ever heard of Batumi? Any idea where it might be?

Neither had I, neither did I.

But ever since attending a Quadro Nuevo concert last Wednesday here in Stuttgart I sort of know where the place is and that it’s truly anciently historical.

Because it was somewhere around Batumi that Jason of old Greek times was sent to obtain the Golden Fleece, guarded by a highly aggressive dragon.

Jason, a strapping youth not adverse to adventure and a bit naive, and some of his buddies, together called the Argonauts, went on a mission that would be, in our day and age, somewhat like latter-day astronauts flying to Mars and not knowing if you were ever going to be back within the next seventy years.

But a throne and a lovely princess were to be his rewards. And what would one not do for a throne and a lovely princess...

The “Trip to Batumi” is only one of the numerous trips the latest CD by Quadro Nuevo – appropriately titled “Grand Voyage” – takes you to – others include Portugal, Antioch (today’s Antakya) and Tunisia.

Guided musical tours by four fantastic musicians from Bavaria that are really worth it!

This CD and others by Quadro Nuevo are available at music stories or online shops, such as Amazon.

– Iself (© 2010)

PS: Curious about Batumi? Wikipedia has the answer.

17.10.10

Vicente Huidobro / Kutter

Die Erinnerungen
                           sind es müde geworden, mir zu folgen

                   DER WEG WAR SO LANG

Dieser Wind kam von etlichen Schwingen
Und die Tage vergehen heulend am Horizont

Als junger Kutter
Durchkreuzte ich viele Ungewitter
Bei Seemannsliedern

Alle Möwen
                   gaben mir Federn in die Hände

Hinter dem letzten Berg
                                     stiegen die Monate hinab

Ein posthumer Gesang versperrte uns die Ausfahrt

– Vicente Huidobro (aus “Poemas árticos”, erste Veröffentlichung 1918)

Aus dem Spanischen übersetzt von Johannes Beilharz (© 2010)

Weitere Gedichte von Vicente Huidobro

City puzzle

Stuttgart, Germany, 21st century

The game appears to be
to create the maximum number
of simultaneous holes in the
ground, marked by white-red
striped accident prevention
contraptions.

                     These holes
form the puzzle. Now to
connect them and get wise
to the great scheme behind
them all...

– Johannes Beilharz (© 2010)

My small tribute to the construction frenzy rampant in this city. Most likely, the authorities are attempting to prepare us for the mother of all constructions – Stuttgart 21 – bound to turn the city into one coherent construction mess for about ten years.

11.10.10

Yannis Ritsos / Heilung

Die Nächte gingen sehr dunkel vorbei.
Gewaltige Schreie liefen im Wind.
Am nächsten Tag erinnerten wir uns an gar nichts.
In der Zeit klaffte ein tiefes Loch.

Da, wo der Wolf sich eingenistet hatte,
blieb ein Schlagloch, mit warmem Wolfshaar ausgekleidet.
Jetzt könnte sich dort ein Schaf hinlegen.

– Yannis Ritsos (1909-1990)

Ins Deutsche übertragen von Johannes Beilharz (© 2010)

[Titel des griechischen Originals: Επουλωση. Aus: Ritsos in Parenthesis, Princeton University Press 1979]

7.10.10

Stille Wasser

... sind tief –

aber das ist noch lange keine Garantie dafür, dass etwas drin ist.

– Iself

Dringend notwendige Ergänzung eines alten Sprichworts.

3.10.10

Yannis Ritsos / Tischkalender

Monate und Monate, Wochen, Tage – unlernbares Jahr.
April mit kurzsichtiger Brille auf der Gartenbank.
Juli verbietet dir, allein zu schlafen.
September erinnert sich an verschlossene Häuser –
zwei Papierblumen und ein schwarzer Kamm mit groben Zähnen auf dem Tisch.
Im November hält ein Mann einen Stein auf dem Knie.
Januar, Februar – alle sind im Ausland.
Der Wind macht verzweifelte Gesten
vor der Glastür des geschlossenen Hotels.
Dann erscheint die stille Reinemachfrau frühmorgens
mit einem Schwamm, um die Fenster zu putzen.

– Yannis Ritsos (1909-1990)
Ins Deutsche übertragen von Johannes Beilharz (© 2010)

[Titel des griechischen Originals: Επιτραπεζιο Ημερολγιο. Aus: Ritsos in Parenthesis, Princeton University Press 1979]

Nachbemerkung des Übersetzers
Wie kam ich dazu, heute dieses Gedicht zu übersetzen? Bei einem Gang durch die Wohnung fiel mir auf, wie verstaubt Ritsos in Parenthesis im Regal war, nahm das Buch mit, staubte es ab, schlug es planlos auf der Seite mit diesem Gedicht auf, las es und beschloss, es zu übersetzen. Es schien mir sehr gut zu dem heutigen goldenen Herbst-Sonntag zu passen.

6.9.10

Clod-stuck poem invigorated

or: Liturgy in the Sky

Again
 

Presentation of the role of straw Heron
This lake. For taking steps
Besides, why bother in the water, and
Pull up a blank, but only once.
Later, in the streets for miles, and some
He said that he will be there when the came. How to
Every day that fragile legs
Cool green scum, a good library door
The heat and light? This is the world's stupid.
Their streets every day, the sky,
Crypt in his cave,
Tin from surface distortion, Scattered in the yard.
daisied West
Changes in three colors, dandelion
The road was. Each year, influenza
Thick volume of air and tingling in wild
Hot, thin grass, leaves light
The beginning. Heron's position
The stone on the ground or behind me.
And broken wings, and then open and remove the iron
Blue rhythm, his body during the flight.
I felt the heat, and straw. Hope song
Taste of the wild, I empty
I said: No, but warm in the fields of
And skin. It is not long before
Start normal breathing,
The liturgy is still in the sky.


- Not Iself

Notes
Received another clod-stuck poem from that well-known ex-poet laureate this evening, which trampled its clod-stuck path about something or other very realistic from one trite line ending to the next.

What to do to breathe some sort of life into that still-life?

Well, I decided to pass it through Google Translate in a bunch of iterations - from English to Chinese to Bulgarian to Georgian to Arabic to God knows what and eventually back to English.

The above is the unadulterated result.

It's a wee bit puzzling ... but at least it's puzzling, which could not have been said about the pedestrian original.

Robert Bly might appreciate it - it has some of those leaps and bounds he thought great poetry should have.

Here's the Hindi version ... just for kicks:

फिर

भूसे की भूमिका की प्रस्तुति बगुला

इस झील. कदम उठाने के लिए

इसके अलावा, क्यों, पानी में परेशान है, और

ऊपर खींचो एक खाली है, लेकिन केवल एक बार.

बाद में, मील के लिए सड़कों में, कुछ और

उन्होंने कहा कि वह वहाँ जब आया होगा. कैसे करने के लिए

हर दिन है कि नाजुक पैरों

शांत हरी मैल, एक अच्छा पुस्तकालय दरवाजा

गर्मी और प्रकाश? यह दुनिया की बेवकूफी है.

उनकी हर दिन सड़कों, आकाश,

अपने गुफा में तहखाना,

विरूपण की सतह से टिन, यार्ड में बिखरे हुए.

पश्चिम गुलबहारों से ढंका हुआ

तीन रंगों, पीले फूल का एक पाक्रर का पौधा में परिवर्तन

सड़क था. प्रत्येक वर्ष, इन्फ्लूएंजा

हवा की मोटी मात्रा और जंगली में झुनझुनी

गर्म, पतले घास, पत्तियां प्रकाश

शुरुआत. बगुला है स्थिति

या मेरे पीछे जमीन पर पत्थर.

और टूटे पंख, और फिर खोलने के लिए और लोहे हटायें

ब्लू ताल, उड़ान के दौरान अपने शरीर.

मैं गर्मी महसूस किया, और पुआल. आशा गीत

जंगली का स्वाद, मैं खाली

मैंने कहा: नहीं, लेकिन के क्षेत्र में गर्म

त्वचा और. यह लंबे समय से पहले नहीं है

शुरू सामान्य श्वास,

मरणोत्तर गित आकाश में अब भी है.

12.7.10

Good-bye to Haiku Very Much

Indelible

Bright flags strung up on
timelines flutter their good-byes
into the present

– Johannes Beilharz (© 2010)

A haiku to say good-bye to Haiku Very Much and its haiku challenges. They will be missed!

27.5.10

Nightingale

Grey melody.
Earth and sky sing in you
And are Spring.

– Peter Hille (1854-1904)

(Translation of Nachtigall; copyright © of translation from German by Johannes Beilharz 2010)

Nachtigall

Graue Melodie.
In dir singen Erde und Himmel
Und sind Frühling.

– Peter Hille (1854-1904)

Dieses Gedicht flatterte mir in der gestrigen Lyrikmail ins Postfach.

3.5.10

You do ignite

You do ignite that
rotten side of me – now please
be gone, old fart – depart!

– Felix Morgenstern (© 2010)

Written around depart, ignite, rotten from 3WW and a slightly failed haiku.

1.5.10

NYC

redeeming snowy rooftops
upper east side manhattan
looking toward sunrise
12th floor blinking red for planes
and below the neighbor's hillocked roof garden
at night the jewelry of tiny glowing rectangles
infinite humans in that flying brick
the chirping of a small bird
a siren far then near then far
the rush of tires
a horn

– Deirdre LaPenna (© 2010)

This poem was originally posted in response to one of my own (Ditty in celebration of a grey city morning).

Other poems by Deirdre:
First poem
It is not imaginary
Older poems

29.4.10

And give us today our daily mixture

Elton John says GOP oil leak in trouble for 5 states
Shootings kill census mail blockade of Bullock
Illegal Alabama immigrants say new congress may not tackle
Baby results could be well of sunken drilling rig
Ariz. governor candidate plans to leave over Obama
This is Mexican border city: we speak law
US Navy has encounter with Ryan White
AP source is divorcing James, adopting immigration soon
Iranian jet turned his life around
Banking regulation bill abandons 16 people in English

– Iself 2010

Blended, mixed, inverted, contorted from 10 current headlines for napowrimo #29, front page news

26.4.10

From across the river

Dark-eyed,
from across the Hooghly she beckons to me

Mysterious night
across the river beckons to me

The old chamber softly lit
beckons to me

A sweetly solemn thought, sun and wind and beat of sea
beckon to me

“I am your woman,” she says
and beckons to me

– Iself (© 2010)

Written for napowrimo #26, get scrappy.

Note
As I was quite sure that I did not have any scribbled or unfinished poem in my wallet or in a notebook, I went to a random poetry generator for inspiration, picking a poem from the “poetry in motion” category. The above romantic/folkloric poem, which is more or less in the form of a ghazal, is the result.

I’m not posting the original generated poem because it has ingredients I did not care for and did not use.

The Hooghly river is a distributary of the Ganges in West Bengal, India, and flows by Kolkata.

25.4.10

The first word to hear

It’s 7 a.m. on Sunday morning.
It’s the apartment and me.
The first word to hear is yet to come
from somewhere –
most likely through a telephone wire
or wireless or from someone
at a bakery.
But there’s bird song
through the open window,
and those birds
seem to be saying something.

– Iself (© 2010)

For napowrimo #25, first things first.

21.4.10

La salsa

Alors vint la salsa...
– Gino Ducreuil
I

     The salsa enters on the tiptoes of celery
its bongos are maroon leathery mushrooms
     And the fat singer after margaritas
is pulsating fire: Celia Cruz

II

     The little black angels deform
under the blasting wall of electric strings
     Willie Colón the outlaw in-law
and this is the moment Brunilda Ruiz rises

     from a vogue for an eternally long
second-long long bridge
     The span of her foot is the graves of Puerto Rico
and the glistening rainy streets of Nueva York

     Spanish words by Adrés Eloy Blanco
music by Manual Álvarez Maciste
      for this elating bow the salsa
now playing in some nightclub in París

– Johannes Beilharz (© 1981/2010)

One quarter elemental for napowrimo #17, something elemental.

Note
Some explanation might be in order here to make this less cryptic.

This poem came about some time after the purchase of El Baquiné de Angelitos Negros, a 1977 album by Willie Colón. The cover shows dancer Brunilda Ruiz, and I somehow wove her, salsa and the much older song by Eloy Blanco and Álvarez Maciste into this poem along with salsa queen Celia Cruz, transplanting the whole show to Paris and quoting by a non-existent Frenchman to introduce it.

20.4.10

I wanna be your hero

You call my attempts
risible, but please
leave me some lowly
pedestal at least

– Felix Morgenstern (© 2010)

Written for napowrimo #20, the hero poem.

A tiny little antidote to Bonnie Tyler:

12.4.10

Crystal clear

Crystal clear is my love.
– Jackie de Shannon

I approach the dark forest
Its darkness swallows me up
After a while I discern a path
It takes me up a slope to a clearing
In the middle of the clearing there is a pond
I dip my right hand into the pond
The water is cool and clear
It seems to do something to my hand
I take it out and look at the palm
But there is nothing

– Johannes Beilharz (© 2010)

What code could be more secret and elusive than dream? Put on the 'net for napowrimo #12, secret codes.

10.4.10

They call him the breeze

It happened by unthought known –
he knocked up my friend

Said shucks when told
and for amendment from his native country
Há tempos ... there are times

Don’t cry sister cry – get ready
for the times to get better

– Iself (© 2010)

A late entry for napowrimo #1, iTunes on shuffle. The pieces were:

Knocked up – Kings of Leon
Don’t cry sister cry – J.J. Cale
Shucks – Bill Frisell
Unthought known – Pearl Jam
Há tempos – Legião Urbana  

From memory I added a modified version of “They call me the breeze” by J.J. Cale for the title and “Ready for the times to get better” by Crystal Gayle for closure.

Ditty

In celebration of a grey city morning

The sky is grey, the roofs glisten a lifeless red,
just rose from restless sleep in bed

Last night I inhaled tons of smoke
and had too much rum with my coke

Give this city boy some good country rest,
a tour in spring air and today will be blest

– Johannes Beilharz (© 2010)

Havent’s quite shaken off the effects of last night’s outing with friends in a smoker bar as you can read here in this silly celebration for napowrimo #10.

5.4.10

For her

Had a terrible Easter
weekend staying
away from you. You laid
down the rules. Your
plan is to educate me,
drive all the feeling for you
out of this torn mind.
But I don’t have to put
that shoe on. I can
shuffle on loving you.
Perhaps educate you –
who knows...

– Johannes Beilharz (© 2010)

Something very personal for napowrimo #5.

4.4.10

Ms. Mueller’s Receiving Speech

“Here’s your room – there’s your view of the Alps.
On good days you can see the Zugspitze.
Did you see it on the way? There’s one place
around Fernpass where you can see it. I see,
you didn’t stop there. Here’s the bathroom,
please use the toilet brush. There’s hot water
in the mornings. Breakfast from 7 to 10
in the cellar or on the terrace on sunny days.
Tomorrow won’t be sunny, going by the forecast.
And tomorrow you plan to be where? Merano?
Well, then, good night.”

– Johannes Beilharz (© 2010)

Lends itself quite well to inside out for napowrimo #4.

2.4.10

Radiant Wall Panels

Now that Chucky
had finally –
after months of begging
and coercion by
his beloved Tilda –
installed the
radiant wall panels
in their Sears Roebuck
kitchen, temporary happiness
had been established
in the Elmore household

– Iself

Another non-abstract RWP acronym-based poem. This time I took "radiant wall panels." See previous post for more details.

Stuck

A rear wheel push
got us out
of the slushy mess

– Iself

Written for Read Write Poem's napowrimo #2. The task was to type "RWP" into Acronymattic and then write a poem with one or several of the resulting explanations. "Rear wheel push" appealed to me more than anything else because of its absence of abstraction, which fits in nicely with William Carlos Williams' "No ideas but in things."

Ernst Stadler: Bahnhöfe

Bahnhöfe

Wenn in den Gewölben abendlich
    die blauen Kugelschalen
Aufdämmern, glänzt ihr Licht in die Nacht hinüber
    gleich dem Feuer von Signalen.
Wie Lichtoasen ruhen in der stählernen Hut
    die geschwungenen Hallen
Und warten. Und dann sind sie
    mit einem Mal von Abenteuer überfallen,
Und alle erzne Kraft
    ist in ihren riesigen Leib verstaut,
Und der wilde Atem der Maschine, die wie ein Tier
    auf der Flucht stille steht und um sich schaut,
Und es ist,
    als ob sich das Schicksal vieler hundert Menschen
    in ihr erzitterndes Bett ergossen hätte,
Und die Luft ist kriegerisch erfüllt
    von den Balladen südlicher Meere
    und grüner Küsten und der großen Städte.
Und dann zieht das Wunder weiter.
    Und schon ist wieder Stille und Licht
    wie ein Sternhimmel aufgegangen,
Aber noch lange halten die aufgeschreckten Wände,
    wie Muscheln Meergetön, die verklingende Musik
    eines wilden Abenteuers gefangen.

– Ernst Stadler (1883-1914)

31.3.10

Fixpoetry

Ohne Titel
Gouache und Ölkreide, 2010

Ich freue mich, ankündigen zu dürfen, dass ich jetzt bei Fixpoetry mit etlichen neueren Gedichten zu lesen bin - meine Autorenseite ist hier direkt erreichbar.

Herzlichen Dank, Julietta!

28.3.10

Renewed onslaught of replica spam

There's good news for all those who had begun to miss replica watch spam:

REPLICA SPAM IS ALIVE AND KICKING!

Beyond that, it has added a confidential, personal note.

Here are some examples that came in during the past two weeks:

From Rita at v04010501bb8c0c083aa5@aist.go.jp

Hi,
At last I’ve found the store that sells quality replicas. All replica timepieces I ordered before looked like cheap imitations. I liked this store from the very beginning. I like their service and selection, and finally the watch I’ve received turned out to be nice, heavy and made from stainless steel.
Tom

http://crave8600.spaces.live.com

-----

Again from Rita, but this time at a6201d@ms21.hinet.net

(she calls me "Bill", hinting that we know each other, but let me assure you that that's not so)

Hello, Bill,
You won’t believe your eyes when you see my new watch. You’ll never guess it is a replica. It looks perfect and I love it. I’m sure I will be a great success with girls now, I’ve already caught some interested glances. I’ve ordered it from Prestige Replicas in case you are interested.
Dan

http://simplicial4271.spaces.live.com

-----

And, surprise surprise, from Rita once more, spamming from this address: 20dollys@india.redcatsasia.com

Hello, Julia,
I received my replica watch on Tuesday. I'm so excited! It is heavy, massive and looks so luxurious and beautiful!!! My boss has original Cartier, he thinks mine is real too, as it is impossible to tell the difference. I'm going to order from them some other models of watches too. Hugs, Angelica
uuo

http://august8860.spaces.live.com

Well, this time Rita is apparently Angelica, and the hugs are for me, Julia, even though I ain't no Julia and there ain't none in the household.

-----

The next one is from Maria (thank God for some diversity) at allen576@digitelone.com - even though one could also get the impression that it's from Robert to George!

Dear George, Today my replica watch has arrived and I'm surprised it doesn't look like a cheap imitation. My friend has advised me to buy a replica watch, so I can keep my original Rolex for special occasions and use the replica for daily wear and tear. Nobody will notice the replacement. I recommend you to do the same. Robert

http://supposition7516.spaces.live.com

My concluding thoughts:

1. Is there actually anybody who is interested in buying this shit?
2. Have any of these spammers ever earned a dime from their spam?
3. Who would be stupid enough to click on one of those links?

Oh, but here's a picture of someone who apparently did order:

13.3.10

Federico García Lorca: Der Schrei

Zum Anlass der letzten Sonntag im Kunstmuseum Stuttgart besuchten Fotoausstellung mit Bildern von Gerda Taro (1910-1937) zum spanischen Bürgerkrieg eine Übertragung eines Gedichtes von García Lorca, der 1936 von den Faschisten ermordet wurde.

Der Schrei

Die Ellipse eines Schreis
läuft von Berg
zu Berg.

¡Ay!

Von den Olivenbäumen
aufsteigend ist sie ein schwarzer Regenbogen
auf der blauen Nacht.

¡Ay!

Wie ein Violabogen
lässt der Schrei
die großen Saiten des Windes schwingen.

¡Ay!

(Die in den Höhlen
halten ihre Lichter hinaus.)

– Federico García Lorca

Ins Deutsche übertragen von Johannes Beilharz


El grito

La elipse de un grito,
va de monte
a monte.

Desde los olivos,
será un arco iris negro
sobre la noche azul.

¡Ay!

Como un arco de viola
el grito ha hecho vibrar
largas cuerdas del viento.

¡Ay!

(Las gentes de las cuevas
asoman sus velones.)

¡Ay!

Weitere Gedichte von Federico García Lorca

28.2.10

Momentous event

Another big dream
gone up
into thin air.

– Iself (© 2010)

Written and posted for Sunday Scribblings and Big Dreams.

I hate to admit it, folks, but that’s the way it went with a lot of my dreams – big and small.

21.2.10

Love disenchanted

When pigs cease to fly
it’s time to say good-bye.

I’ve had enough of you
and all the times I’d woo

you with four leaves of clover.
See you when hell freezes over.

– Felix Morgenstern (© 2010)

Written specifically for Sunday Scribblings and When Pigs Fly / When Hell Freezes Over.

All the Morgenstern poetry (Felix and Christian) posted in this blog

9.2.10

GeoCities became ReoCities

In October 2009, GeoCities – free host to zillions of web pages – shut down.

Today I discovered that David Feinman ported many, many of those pages to ReoCities, including link fixes, so that cross-links to former GeoCities pages actually work.

A great big cheer to David!

My old site SoHo/bistro/7067 is among the sites that were saved.

However, I'd also prepared for the death of GeoCities by moving the pages to my own domain. And that is, of course, where the pages will be updated and where more will be added.

Click here to go to the new home of SoHo/bistro/7067 – International Forum for Literature and Art

7.2.10

First Poem

Between the greatest galaxy
and the smallest sigh
the most important sound is
the voice of you or I.

– Deirdre LaPenna (© 2010)

Posted for Sunday Scribblings #201 / Message.

This poetic message is published here by kind permission of the author.

Older poems by Deirdre LaPenna

6.2.10

Relatively unknown 2nd Lt. wants to share Iraq money

Here's the latest in spam scam from Sparkie Helen White (her nickname is Squeaky Clean, most likely), who, in her own words, is "relatively unknown" to me. Nice wording, even though I would change the adverb to "entirely" for truth's sake. By the way, the BBC News link below is actually legit.

Who knows, perhaps some reader may want to write to see what the promised vivid and coherent next message might be?

Enjoy this sincere offer:

Greetings,

I know you would be surprised to read from someone relatively unknown to you. My name is 2nd LT. SPARKIE HELEN WHITE, a member of the U.S. ARMY USARPAC Medical Team, which was deployed to Iraq at the beginning of the war in Iraq.

I would like to share some highly classified information about my personal experience and role which I played in the pursuit of my career serving
under the U.S 1st Armored which was at the fore-front of the war in Iraq.

Though, I would like to hold back certain information for security reasons for now until you have found the time to visit the BBC website stated below to
enable you have an insight into what I intend sharing with you, believing that it would be of your desired interest one-way or the other.

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/middle_east/2988455.stm

Also, could you get back to me having visited the above website to enable us discuss in a more clarifying manner to the best of your understanding. I must
say that I'm very uncomfortable sending this message to you without knowing truly if you would misconstrue the importance and decide to go public. In this
regards, I will not hold back to say that the essence of this message is strictly for mutual benefit between you and I and nothing more.

I will be vivid and coherent in my next message in this regards, meanwhile, could you send me an email confirming that you have visited the site and that
you have understood my intentions? I will await your thoughts via my personal email.

Thanks,

Best Regards

2nd LT. SPARKIE HELEN WHITE.

22.1.10

Somewhere near Teec Nos Pos

“Oh my God,” James thought, “what am I doing all by myself in this neo-apocalyptic landscape?”

“But at least there’s a three-legged chair keeping me company, and it’s talking – telling me about the pain of a lost leg.

“The lips are brown and wooden, and the language is strange – a bit like Hopi.

“But hey, who am I to complain?”

– Johannes Beilharz (© 2010)

Inspired by read write prompt #111, which came with the following photo by Sepulture:


6.1.10

Momentaufnahme

Es geht mir nicht gut! Ich mache wieder mal eine “unberührbare” Phase durch, in der ich mit der Welt hadere (weil sich mir gerade intensiv die Einsicht aufdrängt, dass die Welt meinem Wunsch nicht nachkommt, mich zu amüsieren und zu befriedigen), und das ist eine gefährliche, unwürdige und undankbare Stimmung. Auf diesem Planeten ist kein Platz für Langeweile. Es gibt zu viel zu tun. Aber was?

– Erika Bedardi (© 2010)

Weitere kurze Prosastücke der Autorin in Ultrakurzgeschichten

Kurzgeschichten im Forum für Literatur Alb-Neckar-Schwarzwald

4.1.10

Hugo Ball: Mein Dämon

Mein Dämon

Mein Dämon hat keine Brüder und Schwestern.
Mein Dämon ist nicht von heute und gestern.
Als Gott, der Herr, die Welten machte,
Saß mein Dämon dabei im Grase und lachte,
Schnitt sich die Zehennägel entzwei
Und sah an der ganzen Welt vorbei.

Hugo Ball (1886-1927)

Irgendwie ließ mich dieses kleine Gedicht des Dadaisten Hugo Ball an die Hindu-Mythologie denken, in der auch Dämonen vorkommen, die es an Macht durchaus mit den Göttern aufnehmen können... 

Englische Übertragung / In English

Lyrik – Gedichte verschiedener Autoren