Tepid Tides
Amongst the jungle on the isle’s edge
the tepid tides have carved a golden heart
of salt
and rock –
Just so, your voice’s limpid surf has etched
into my soul a secret golden mark
so – drop –
by drop –
Christina Egan ©2023
***
A poem for
Valentine’s Day!
It sounds like a very long relationship…
Inspired by a postcard of a heart-shaped island.
Purple Wine
I.
Deep purple and pure is this wine,
the midsummer’s fire condensed,
expanding inside me, immense:
your kiss – you are finally mine.
II.
There’s twenty-one words on the paper,
of wine and a night I forgot:
yet flowers and fruits bore my plot,
your kiss sparkles many years later…
Christina Egan © 2005 (I) / 2020 (II)
Photograph: Christina Egan © 2016.
Green Lagoon
(Lanzarote)
Down the cauldron of the mountains,
on an island like a moon,
down the sooty, rusty hollows,
you will find the green lagoon
where your destiny is brewing,
where new dreams are bubbling up,
where the sky is pure and glowing,
where the earth is fresh and hot!
Christina Egan © 2015
Crater Lakes
Afar, I’ve seen the keen and tranquil green
of crater lakes, like mirrors of my dream…
And now I turn to look into your eyes
and find the same mysterious silver gleam
and realise my dream’s materialised.
Love happens, blossoms, thrives – and never dies.
Christina Egan © 2011
Please also note my poems about the green crater lakes at Kaali, Estonia (Der Erde Auge) and at Sete Cidades, Azores (Sonett der drei Seen).
Green Lagoon, El Golfo, Lanzarote. Photograph: Justraveling.
I’ve Caught a Star
I’ve caught a star
and hold it tight,
it warms my heart,
it fills the night.
Yours is a kiss
as none before,
I know I need
now nothing more.
You are all men
and women, too,
the town, the land,
the earth are you.
You are the sun,
the sparkling day,
the magic moon,
the milky way.
You are the zest
upon my lip,
the only smile
that will unzip,
the only hand
that will hand back
each grain of corn,
each drop of sap.
Christina Egan © 2003
Mild Christmas Eve
My heavy gate to heaven
has got a secret crack,
and sometimes sunlike flashes
steal through the sudden gap.
There are no stars this Christmas
but those in your sweet face,
no snow and sparkling crystals
but those in your embrace.
You are my splendid banquet,
you are the birth of mirth,
you’ll be my earth in heaven –
my heaven here on earth.
Christina Egan © 2004
Photograph by Gabriel Pollard [CC BY-SA 2.5].
Featured picture on Wikimedia Commons.
Remember November
Eight times the leaves have paled,
been plucked and swept away,
eight times the sun has waned
and steeped the days in grey;
eight times the loom of spring
has woven rainbow rugs,
eight times made blackbirds sing
between the bursting buds;
eight times the fruit has swelled
and, in its turn, the fog,
eight times the frost has quelled
the sap’s impatient throb –
Eight years my heart has found
its breath and path in you;
eight years it’s watched your mouth
for words as warm as true.
Christina Egan © 2005
This anniversary poem goes through the seasons, with a focus on autumn. You could change the title and the number of years if you want it for your own anniversary, perhaps even swap the lines, starting with spring.
explosion der rosen
wir warten auf den goldenen oktober
ein kuppeldach aus himmelblauem glas
auf rote zungen überm alten zuber
brilliantensplitter im erfrischten gras
wir warten auf die explosion der rosen
auf pilze wie verwunschene gehölze
und auf die falsche pracht der herbstzeitlosen
als ob die welt sich nicht schon stumm bewölkte
als ob der glanz nicht mündete in moder
die dahlie wie ein feuerwerk verginge
wir warten auf den goldenen oktober
und tauschen küsse wie brilliantenringe
Christina Egan © 2017
Dahlia Garden in Fulda, Germany, in October.
Photograph: Christina Egan © 2010.
Du bist der Blütenschnee
Du bist der Blütenschnee,
du bist die Blütengischt,
die Blütengalaxie,
die mir das Glück verspricht,
die mir das Glück versprüht,–
die Frühlingssymphonie,
die nimmermehr verblüht…
Du funkelst mehr denn je!
Christina Egan © 2018
The Opposite of Snow
This sweet and heavy blossom,
white with a golden glimmer,
an incandescent glow…
Its sweet and heavy scent,
like gingerbread in summer –
the opposite of snow!
Christina Egan © 2018
The first poem compares blossom to snow, the second declares it the opposite of snow. Both could be a description of a beloved person: delightful or even delicious like gingerbread…
Do Diamonds Die?
Even diamonds die.
Empires erode,
battlements decay,
skyscrapers melt.
Not so what locks
your look into my look,
my heart into your heart.
Love will live.
With or without a night
or even a day,
a confession, a vow.
Love is born love.
Diamonds have grown for us,
as rare in the vast dark soil
as stars in the fathomless void.
Heaven does happen.
Christina Egan © 2004
Illustration from a children’s book of 1896.
Image provided by British Library through Flickr.
P.S.: Reader, he married me! ;o)
August
Hell ist mein Herz
unterm Kornblumenblau
in der Wiege der goldenen Hügel.
Steil steigt es auf
mit dem Schwalbengepfeif,
denn es reiften ihm stämmige Flügel.
Christina Egan © 2010
Written for a wedding anniversary in August.
Midsummer also stands for the middle of life
and for the fullness of life.
The next poem was written in May, when
summer is unfolding with the exultation of
blackbirds and swallows.
Amseln und Schwalben
Im Saum des bewimpelten Wipfels,
im Dämmer erquickenden Tröpfelns
entfalten die Amseln Voluten
von Flötentönen und Fluten
von Jubel in wechselnden Wind!
Und lauter und lauter schon pfeifen
und höher und höher schon streifen
die Schwalben in schwindende Wolken,
als warte der Morgen schon golden…
Ein Regenbogen erglimmt.
Christina Egan © 2017
Double rainbow in Lund, Sweden. Photograph: Christina Egan © 2017.
Christina Egan 