Author: Christina Egan

Unterm Abendstern

~ Christina Egan ~ Leave a comment

Unterm Abendstern

I.

Sternenklar

Im Dämmer schwebt der neugeborne Mond,
ein unhörbares Gutenachtgeläute.
Die Amsel, die auf der Antenne thront,
ruft sternenklar… Mein Herz zerspringt vor Freude.

II.

Pflücken

Und immer wieder Amsel, Mond und Rose,
und immer wieder Wehmut und Entzücken…
Und unterm Abendstern das grenzenlose
Verlangen, diesen Augenblick zu pflücken.

III.

Xylophon

Ich brauche nichts als diese Vorstadtstraße,
den Blattgoldhimmel und den Vogelruf,–
und dann das klare Xylophon der Sprache,
die Hunderte verklärter Verse schuf.

Christina Egan ©2019

Tall brick chimney with blackbird sitting on top.
Blackbird on English chimney.
Photograph: Christina Egan ©2018.

Written in June, when the days are longest and the life-giving beauty of summer unfolds.

The senses mingle: the moon’s light is as bright as a bell and the blackbird’s call is as bright as a star.

The poems themselves are an echo of starlight and birdsong, created on the xylophone of language.

The subject of art can be as small as a summer evening above a random street– as small and as great.

rosengarten (II. sprühendgrau)

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rosengarten

II.

sprühendgrau

die ungeahnten sonnenglanz vergießen
die regenschauer und den regenbogen
zu einem milden meeresgrau verwoben
die augen sollen meine verse grüßen.
dem nebelland das immerkalte wogen
in ungestümem reigentanz umschließen
den inseln voller sprühendgrüner wiesen
sind jene augen ursprünglich enthoben.
drum frag ich nicht nach lilien und lavendel
die flammen sprühen auf gebeugtem stengel
noch nach des südens uferlosem blau
nichts brauche ich als meinen kleinen garten
wo alle wunder lächelnd meiner warten
die bunte welt geballt in sprühendgrau.

Christina Egan ©2023

This sonnet is part of a cycle of 14 poems, whereby each line of the first one (rosengarten I. tiefversteckt) furnishes the first line of a new sonnet.

The island described here is Ireland, but the cycle takes you to other islands, as well as to the palace gardens of Würzburg, Germany, which first inspired me.

Word cloud of colours and flowers and in white on black; in the middle, "multi-coloured", "green", "golden".

Word cloud of colours in the German sonnet cycle (rosengarten I-XIV), generated on the Simple Word Cloud Generator. In the middle are “colourful”, “green”, and “golden”. Since the colours of the roses are not described, the roses themselves are added.

Radiance (You did not see the star)

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Radiance

You did not see the star
touching your chimney
nor did you feel the moon
touching your shoulder.

You yearned for the shift of the seasons,
expected the change of the clocks,
but not the shift of the colours,
the liquid gold in the air.

You did not see your radiance,
but someone else did,
your grace that carries like scent
before you have spoken a word.

When the sky was blue glass,
when the moon was a sphere,
a hand held up a mirror,
a wind kissed your hair.

Christina Egan ©2021

Dancing on the Beach

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Dancing on the Beach

I woke up to a world
where the bears and the bees
had not cast their ballots
but the humans had:

a brave brand-new world
where an abundance
of guns guaranteed
safety and peace,

where an ample range
of promises rained down
on the fields like fertiliser,
tremendous and toxic,

and where the deceitful tongue
was spreading like the olive-tree
in the house of God,
laughing us to scorn.

I woke up to a crowd
dancing on the beach, drunk,
while the floods were gathering
from the heights and the horizon,

a world watching and filming
on ten thousand screens
its boats and its bridges
falling apart. I woke up.

Christina Egan ©2024

On Nov. 5th, 2024, it became evident that the great project of democracy
is about to destroy itself, taking the whole of our civilisation with it.

Noch ist nicht aller Tage Abend

~ Christina Egan ~ Leave a comment
Two storks in a nest, standing very close together, surmounted by a triangular tree and a steep roof, in the dusk.
Photograph: Storks’ nest in Wyk on Föhr, Germany. Christina Egan ©2014.

Noch ist nicht aller Tage Abend

Noch ist nicht aller Tage Abend,
der Sommer noch nicht ausgebrannt,
noch will die Feige Frucht dir tragen,
entfaltet sich dir ohne Fragen
die Erde ohne Riß und Rand.

Noch ist nicht aller Nächte Morgen,
noch paßt der Mond in deine Hand!
Noch ziehen Störche gegen Norden,
noch will der Wildbach überborden…
Noch harrt die Perle dir im Sand.

Christina Egan ©2021

My birthday poem for myself!
Images of ebullient life-force built on
the proverb “It is not the last evening yet”.

See last year’s post Still Here (Still striding)
and a poem written for a 50th birthday,
Eat the World (When you get older)!

Die Spur des Mars / The Trace of Mars

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Die Spur des Mars

Unbeirrbar rollt die Straße,
über Hügel, über Flüsse
schnurgerade hingebreitet
wie ein Strahl vom flammendroten
goldstückgroßen Himmelsboten:
Mars hat Rom hierhergeleitet.

Christina Egan ©2020

The Trace of Mars

Resolutely, the road rolls
over rivers, over hills,
laid out strangely straight and clear,
issued like a flaming ray
from the gold coin in the sky:
It is Mars that led Rome here.

Christina Egan ©2020

As ever, the first poem of the year admires the roads of the Romans. At Cassel in the north of France, you can see them radiate from a hill and run entirely straight, regardless of the landscape. They served very well to transport people, goods, and ideas, but were first of all laid to occupy and exploit regions. Mars in the poem above stands for war and aggression but also for courage and strength.

Silvester / It Is Harvest

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Silvester

Wunderkerzen sprühen
und verglühen,
Sektbläschen blinken
und sinken…
und ein Gedanke blitzt auf!

Word cloud in warm colours; in the middle: "still", "rising", "faces", "leaves", "life".

Mit jedem Tag,
der dir entschwindet,
wirst du reicher
an Erlebnis,
an Erfahrung.

Mit jedem Jahr,
das dir verwelkt,
wächst du
an Geduld,
an Gelassenheit.

Christina Egan © 2013

It Is Harvest

Burning sparkler on black background, looking like a supernova!

So you thought life was past?
It has only begun.
For whatever you’ve lost
there is something you’ve won.
For whatever you’ve missed
there is something you’ve learned.
It is harvest: persist
and reap all that you earned.

Christina Egan ©2008

Photograph by Gabriel Pollard [CC BY-SA 2.5].
Featured picture on Wikimedia Commons.

650 poems posted on this site !

Happy New Year to everyone!

Word cloud in warm colours; in the middle: "still", "rising", "faces", "leaves", "life".

This is the word cloud (not of the tags but of the texts) of all English poems posted on this site in the past year. Another year of love and life and leaves… and of mass consumption, mass media, and mass murder.

With thanks to the excellent tool Simple Word Cloud Generator!

glanztanzend / dazzle-dancing

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glanztanzend

glitzerndbunte
einzigartige
grußkarten
glückwünsche

aufgereiht
auf rotem faden
über kerzen
glanztanzend

dennochlächelnd
zurückzwinkernd
blickweckend
herzwärmend

glitzerndbunte
einzigartige
käfergedichte
lindwurmwörter

dank tinte
oder tastatur
überseesegelnd
überschallfliegend

von geist zu geist
von aug zu ohr
lautspielerei
wortzauberei

Christina Egan ©2023

A handful of hand-crafted Christmas cards in different styles and colours.

dazzle-dancing

sparkly-motley
one-of-a-kind
greeting cards
congratulations

lined up on
red thread
above candles
dazzle-dancing

smiling anyway
winking back
awakening gazes
warming hearts

sparkly-motley
one-of-a-kind
little beetle poems
dragon’s tail words

overseas sailing
supersonic flying
thanks to ink
or keyboard

from mind to mind
from eye to ear
sound-play
word-spell

Christina Egan ©2024

A handful of hand-crafted Christmas cards in different styles and colours.

The poem does what it describes: inventing words, lining them up, and sending them to others to greet them and cheer them up!

The newly coined terms had to be re-created in English – where they do of course not look as impressive. “lindwurmwörter”, for instance, really sounds and looks as long as a dragon, while “dragon’s tail words” looks like three words, even though I added the tail in to get a similar effect in meaning and length.

In England, many people hang Christmas cards up on golden strings. During the festive seasons of 2022/23 and 2023/24, I crafted many greeting cards myself, each of them unique.

Seasonal greeting cards. Artwork: Christina Egan ©2022/©2023/©2024. Photographs: Miriam Hornsby ©2024.

Shooting-stars (Damp Wood)

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Shooting-stars

Damp wood, damp walls: the world smells of decay.
The scented roses are resurgent, yet
too many leaves are falling, fallen, wet
across the spotless lawn, the winding way.
Above Bruce Castle’s reddish parapet
and wayward weather-vane, the veil of grey
is torn apart to let a dazzling ray
caress the clock-face, still for summer set.
The light is fierce and will not be subdued,
the clock smiles sky-blue with a rim of gold,
the grass is glittering and fresh and bold,
and then the sky itself triumphs, renewed.
All this eclipsing, flash on flash, they pass:
the parakeets, a dozen shooting-stars.

Christina Egan ©2020

Turret painted in pink, with bright-blue clockface and golden weather-vane, under a blue sky.
Bruce Castle, Tottenham, England.
Photograph: Christina Egan ©2017.

This sonnet was read at an
event of Tottenham Trees
at Bruce Castle Museum
in November 2024, together
with Thought Bench and
Hollow Oak (Anglo-Saxon spell).