FLORA

Queen of the Night to King Moon

~ Christina Egan ~ Leave a comment

Queen of the Night to King Moon

I suck the moisture from the Martian sand
and spend myself in reckless rapid bloom.
I am the Queen of a vast sun-quenched land,
yet subject to the magic of the Moon.

—

Wüstenblüte

Cactus seen from above, with two star-like flowers bigger than the body of the cactus

Sieh, vom Zauberstab des Mondes
angerührt mit sanfter Macht
sind zitronengelbe Sterne
wie Laternen still erwacht,
schütten Düfte in die Wüste,
todgeweiht nach einer Nacht –
desto größer, desto süßer
in verdichtet lichter Pracht.

Texts and photograph:
Christina Egan © 2014

—

You can find another photo of and poem about the Queen of the Night, Die Macht der Königin der Nacht, at the entry Green Blood.

The flowers indeed often come out with the full moon… and mostly last only one day… although they do last a second night.

Cacti must not stay outside overnight in a damp country: if their roots get too wet, they suffer and die. I only put them in the garden to make them and the insects happy… and the people!

Green Blood

~ Christina Egan ~ Leave a comment

The plant on the window-sill

Lush Christmas cactus on window sill, appearing to reach out to the viewer, with little cacti around.

It is shining, it is glowing,
while the sun is rising high!
It is stretching, it is growing,
so am I, oh, so am I!

It is breathing, it is throbbing,
full of blossom, full of birth!
It is floating, it is bobbing
on the bubble of the earth!

Christina Egan © 2015

Fist-sized cactus with large star-like flower on long firm stalk. Palm-tree shaped red plant in background mirroring the flower's shape; white rose petals on ground mirroring its colour.Die Macht der Königin der Nacht

In der Mittsommermitternacht
ist ein schneeweißer Stern mir erwacht,
eine bebende Blütenblattüte:
Mit heimlicher Königsmacht
hat ein Kaktus den Funken entfacht,
eine klare Trompetenblüte!

Christina Egan © 2013

 

The Tree at the Corner

Shiny reddish bark, paper-thin and frayed, on a straight round tree-trunk.I gather air and light,
I filter drop on drop,
till there is liquid life:
my waving hands’ green blood.

I give you air and shade
with my bright canopy,
till there is solid gold
through age-old alchemy!

Christina Egan © 2015

 

Was der Baum im Winter tut

Bare branches against sunset in mauve and apricot; high mountains along horizon.Mit tausend nackten Zweigen hält der Baum
gleich einem gläsernen gewölbten Kelch
die Gänserufe und den Amselsang,
das gleißend hingegossne letzte Gold
und dann das Pfauenblau der frühen Nacht…
Und jene Stille wie ein Geigenklang.

Christina Egan © 2013

Photographs: Christina Egan © 2013/2014/2016

These lines portray plants as living creatures and active participants in this universe.

The non-descript pot-plant stays in its place, yet it gives and takes, grows and procreates — and presumably enjoys life, particularly in spring.

Around summer solstice, the humble cactus suddenly pushes out an unlikely flower, shaped like a trumpet and dazzling like a star: it has revealed itself as a Queen of the Night!

The everyday tree turns the inanimate elements into living matter; and it brings forth beauty even while that life turns towards death again in autumn.

Around winter solstice, the bare tree perceives the beauty of this earth — sunset and dusk, birdsong and silence — or at least, it forms part of this array for us.

Poems about Roses, Life & Death

~ Christina Egan ~ Leave a comment

Poems about Roses, Life & Death

Vase_and_rose_02Sonnengelb

Im sonnengelben Tüllgewand
mit rosarotem Rüschenrand
schwankt sie im satten Bühnenlicht
von Gleichgewicht zu Gleichgewicht:
die königliche Tänzerin,
die Rose namens Harlekin!

Sunny Yellow

Dressed in sunny yellow gauze
hemmed with ruffs like rosy haze,
perfect poise in every pose,
in the lime-light there she sways,
dancing-girl of regal grace:
Harlequin, the motley rose!

Photograph: Christina Egan © 2013  –  Texts: Christina Egan © 2015

—

          The Giant Rose

Gdn_RoseRed_2009June

The giant rose, pale yellow, slightly flushed,
still opens and expands and grows more lush
            with every breath.
Yet its intoxicating scent deceives:
for through her delicate and ample leaves
            runs silent death.

Photograph: Christina Egan © 2009  –  Text: Christina Egan © 2013

—

Crimson silk

A cushion of crimson silk
and swelling still,

a mouth of countless lips,
of soundless words,

the red rose
stands

releasing its heavy scent
like crimson streamers, crimson streams,

until I feel it on my tongue
like ivory-coloured marzipan!

Christina Egan © 2015

—

Gelbe Rose

In Sonnengelb und Aprikose
reckt sich die prallgefüllte Rose
in ihrem reifsten Augenblick,
als eine Frau – in gelb gekleidet,
mit goldnem Haar – vorüberschreitet
mit schwebendem und festem Schritt.

Die Rose weiß noch nichts vom Welken,
entfaltet sich im hohen gelben,
vermeintlich abendlosen Licht…
Die Frau schaut lange, hält den Atem
in jenem festtagsbunten Garten,
wo ihre Jugend jetzt zerbricht.

Christina Egan © 2011

—

Sonnengelb and Sunny Yellow  are parallel creations. The flower in the vase and the flower in the painting looked exactly the same — in their striking shapes and colours as well as in size and maturity…  

Gelbe Rose (Yellow rose) compares a rose in shades of apricot and sunflower and a woman with similar clothes and blond hair. The flower, at the height of her life, does not know that age and death are about to strike; but the woman does.

You will find more roses in the sonnet Der letzte Tag des Sommers ist gekommen.

Ecce pratum purpuratum

~ Christina Egan ~ Leave a comment

Ecce pratum purpuratum

Bunte Blumen wünsch’ dir nicht,
einen Regenbogen,–
um die Farbe hat das All
bitter mich betrogen.

Weiße Blumen schick’ ich dir,
ewig unbeschrieben,
schwarze Blumen noch dazu,
schon dem Tod beschieden.

Statt der buntgefächerten
frohen sonnensatten
weiße Blumen wie der Schnee,
schwarze wie der Schatten.

Purpursamen streut der Lenz
über meine Wiese…
Bunte Blumen brech’ ich dir
erst im Paradiese.

Christina Egan © 2015

Tall flowers, each part in pale pink and deep purple - almost black and white

Photograph:  ‘Bachblüten’ (Meadow flowers). František Matouš © 2016

 

Ecce pratum purpuratum

Do not ask for flowers bright,
rainbow blooming boldly –
since the universe deprived
me of colours coldly.

Let me send you flowers white,
virgin leaves forever,
flowers black as sultry night,
life and death together.

From the fanned-out golden glow
on the merry meadow
take some flowers white as snow,
flowers black as shadow.

Purple blossom scatters spring
right beneath my eyes…
Purple flowers I shall bring
you in Paradise.

Christina Egan © 2015

The title is a Latin quote from the mediaeval song cycle Carmina Burana.
The German and English versions were created to match each other.