Green Blood

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.

Ecce pratum purpuratum

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.