November
Im dunkelblauen Nebel liegen
gelöst mein Haus und Park.
Mein Herz hat einen Traum erstiegen
und hebt sich still und stark.
Der Herbst hat Gold um Gold gewonnen
mit schmerzloser Gewalt.
Das Mondlicht ist für mich geronnen
zu lieblicher Gestalt.
Christina Egan © 2010
—
This must be one of the happiest late-autumn poems ever:
exuding peace, evoking beauty, steeped in blue and gold!
Zest
In splashes of fresh golden-green
the leaves cascade down the tree,
a banner of zest!
However warm, though, it grows,
however late the light flows,
still gilding the west,
the promise of lemon and lime
will never turn green in good time,
green true to a tree.
From nascent glow through the length
of summer and on to the strength
of ripe revelry,
the waves of the leaves will pour
not-yet or not-any-more
convincingly green:
The graceful acacia-tree
has the dubious destiny
of virginal sheen.
Christina Egan © 2015
Photograph: Christina Egan © 2015
It was a poem by Hermann Hesse that drew my attention to the acacia tree:
September (Der Garten trauert) is online with my rhymed English translation.
Sommergewitter am Meer
Das Meer lag wie ein Teppich,
die Sonne sank mit Prunk.
Die Nacht fiel lau und lieblich,
der Mond stieg stolz und rund.
Der Himmel rührt das Wasser
und zaust den Wald – und jetzt –
ein Tropfen, Klopfen, Prasseln –
und jetzt – der erste Blitz!
Doch in die wilden Zacken,
Licht sonder Maß und Zahl,
dreht eine Leuchtturmfackel
den stillen breiten Strahl.
Christina Egan © 2015
—
This composition of bright moonshine, wild lightning,
and flashing lighthouse fire recalls the Darß (Darss) at
the very edge of Germany.
You can find more verse on the Baltic Sea in summer
at ostseeschlaflied and Midsummernight Far North,
and when you type ‘Darss’ into the search box.
On the Volcano’s Rim
Goldstaub
(Lanzarote)
Hoher blauer Himmel,
weißer Wolkenflug,
ungestüme Winde,
rascher Schattenzug
über rote Halden,
über graue Höhn,
über grüne Matten,
wo schon Sterne stehn:
abertausend Blüten
wie ein Frühlingslied,
Goldstaub, den die Sonne
aus dem Erdreich zieht!
Christina Egan © 2015
—
Gold Dust
(Lanzarote)
Blue sky, ever higher,
white clouds in full flight,
winds wilful and forceful,
swift change of the light
across the red boulders,
across the grey height,
across the green lichen,
where stars tremble bright:
a flourish of flowers
and spring in a splash,
the gold dust the sun
can draw out of the ash!
Christina Egan © 2015
—
Dreaming Dragon
(Lanzarote)
Dew-drops sparkling in all colours
on the mighty coal-black craggy
shoulder of a dreaming dragon:
so these tiny tender flowers
perch on the volcano’s terrace –
fire, earth and wind distilled
to a dainty dotted quilt.
Ceaseless gales and sleepless fire,
ashes fed with salty dew –
ocean and volcano brew
flora’s early, lacy layer,
magic carpet in the air,
in the boundless brown and blue…
Dreams are real. Dreams come true.
Christina Egan © 2015
—
The Hoard
(Lanzarote)
As the mountain bears the flower,
as the giant holds the gem,
so the hour bears my poem:
purple speck on silver stem.
Where a myriad wild flowers
sprout behind the dry-stone wall,
I must gather all my powers
till the heavens hear my call.
Christina Egan © 2015
—
Valentine on the Volcano
(Lanzarote)
We dance on the volcano’s rim –
although its low and sunken side,
although extinct for centuries –
tossed partly by the wild wind’s whim
and partly drunk with liquid life –
suspended over sky-blue seas!
(I found my love above Teguise!)
Christina Egan © 2015
The little volcano. Photograph: Christina Egan © 2015
These lines all sprang from one of the greatest experiences of my life: climbing a little volcano on the isle of Lanzarote, about which you can find a poetic description in German and English at Isle of Bliss / Insel der Seligkeit.
Gold Dust and The Hoard could equally be set in my native Rhön Mountains, also of volcanic origin, but very far inland and much greener.
The three poems in English only may work quite well in an automatic translator. The first two poems are translations of each other, or rather, parallel creations in German and English, where rhythm and rhyme required some changes in wording. It is better to do it this way, since the message is partly conveyed by rhythm and rhyme!
You could leave out the line in brackets to use the poem for a Valentine’s or anniversary card. Copy that line, though, into your list of places to see — both little towns, Teguise and Costa Teguise, because one has got the history and the other one the beach!
This handful of poems almost sums up my work: they describe plants and mountains and the sea; they refer to most basic colours; conclude with thoughts on art and religion and love; and use the beauty of language to capture the beauty of the world.
Epithalamium
A hundred snowflakes melting in your hair,
and every one a different ornament;
a hundred swallows weaving in the air,
each on its own encrypted message bent;
a thousand roses, beauty pure and bare,
each goblet filled with subtly varied scent;
a thousand leaves consumed in festive flare,
each spelling out its special testament…
So how much more are you – a human face –
unheard-of and unequalled in your blend?
I chose you from a thousand for your grace,
fulfilling and surpassing what I dreamt.
So by your side I take today my place,
while unnamed blessings blossom and descend.
Christina Egan © 2014
—
An epithalamium is a wedding song; a Continental sonnet
has 8 + 6 lines. Here, the first eight lines present images
from the four seasons; the last six lines state that humans are
more complex and individual than any natural phenomenon.
Some German poems on the uniqueness of each person can be
found at Einer von Millionen and Hieroglyphe.
First Autumn Days
(September Haiku)
*
Fiery flower,
still sucking sunshine, still scaling
the wooden fence.
*
The sky turns deep pink
above the first rusty leaves
and burning berries.
*
The moon, low and large,
a knob of solid silver
on heaven’s sceptre.
***
Erste Herbsttage
*
Feurige Blume,
noch saugst du die Sonne ein,
kletterst den Zaun hoch.
*
Tiefrosa Himmel,
erste rostrote Blätter,
brennende Beeren.
*
Der Mond, niedrig, groß,
solide Silberkugel
am Himmelszepter.
*
Christina Egan © 2015
*
Haiku have 5 + 7 + 5 syllables.
The German haiku are translated
from the English ones.
ich liebe dich
ich liebe dich
ich suche dich
am apfelbaum
der geißblattbusch
umduftet mich
mit weiß und gold
ich liebe dich
ich finde dich
im fiebertraum
ein runder mond
verschwendet sich
verheißungsvoll
ich liebe dich
Christina Egan © 2015
—
These lines were inspired by my favourite poem ever,
the magical Ich liebe dich by Adelheid Bienmüller, which
once struck me on a calendar. Unfortunately, I have not yet
found this poet and her poem on the world wide web!
Later, I translated these lines as I love you well (I look for you).
The plant on the window-sill
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
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
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
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.
Harvest moon
A crystal ball suspended
above the park, black, blurred:
as if a god descended
onto this worn-out world.
The branches stretch their fingers,
the flowers crane their necks
towards the orb that shimmers
into the deepest cracks.
Tonight we see the largest
and brightest star that blooms:
this is the moon of harvest,
this is the moon of moons.
Christina Egan © 2015
Der letzte Tag des Sommers ist gekommen
Der letzte Tag des Sommers ist gekommen
mit Tropfen frischen Bluts und Flocken Schnees
entlang des ausgeblichnen Blumenbeets,
mit Sonnenschein, geballt und dann verschwommen,
mit Regenschauern, hart und schon zerronnen,
mit tausendfacher Kraft des Krauts und Klees
und brüchigbraunem Laub entlang des Wegs,
mit Silbernetzen wie aus Luft gesponnen.
Der letzte Tag des Sommers hält die Fahne
von allen Farben in die wilden Winde,
daß sie das Auge ohne Suche finde,
daß sie die Seele ohne Zweifel ahne…
Der letzte Tag des Sommers hängt die Fahne
an gelber Rosen berstendes Gebinde.
Christina Egan © 2014
The first part of this sonnet (8 lines) conjures up scattered petals like drops of blood and flakes of snow, bright sunshine and hard rain, vigorous herbs and brittle leaves and delicate webs. The second part (6 lines) lets the last day of summer hold a colourful banner into the wild winds and hang it onto a lush garland of yellow roses. — See also Poems about roses, life and death (a German and English selection).
Christina Egan 