xx LANGUAGES

Green Lagoon / Crater Lakes

~ Christina Egan ~ Leave a comment

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

Olive-green inlet amongst towering black and red rocks, entirely barren.

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.

Blue Cloud

~ Christina Egan ~ Leave a comment

Blue Cloud

Framed by the rubber
of the rolling windows,
the shifting squares
of terraced houses,

the sliding panels
of allotment fences
it appears
again:

a bolt of blue,
the sky in a cloud,
an armful of May –
my cyanothus!

And masked and
unfolding again
and past and
afloat in my eyes…

Christina Egan © 2008

Little tree with bright-blue blossom, next to pink and blue flowers.A tiny light-blue Cyanothus. The one in the poem was a massive tree with almost indigo flowers. I never cease to marvel at the blue blossom. See also Under the Blue Bloom of the Tree.

Photograph: Christina Egan © 2017.

Sous les toits de Gand

~ Christina Egan ~ Leave a comment

Sous les toits de Gand

Je suis toujours en vie
Et j’ai toujours envie
De vivre, de rêver

Des rêves énormes comme les nuages
D’été qui glissent au-dessus des flots
Et poursuivent leur pèlerinage
À l’infini

Des rêves résolus comme des bateaux
De bois solide et souple, à trois mâts,
Et qui soupirent pour un grand voyage
À l’inconnu

Gateway and lane leading to a church; all cobblestones and bricks.Gate into cobblestone lane with white walls, black doors, and red buildings behind.

 

Je suis toujours en vie
Et j’ai toujours envie
De vivre, de rêver

Rêver
Penser
Et projeter

Des rêves somptueux comme les portails,
Autels et voûtes, les tours et toits de Gand
Ces fantaisies en marbre, gré et brique,
Ces fantaisies…

Des rêves généreux des bâtiments,
Des ponts et rues et tout cet éventail
D’une grande ville vraie et fantastique –
Ces bonds d’esprit…

Three tall gothic windows with modern stained galss, abstract and subdued.Very narrow cobblestone lane, opening up to vast lawn and huge church.

 

Je suis toujours en vie
Et j’ai toujours envie
De vivre, de rêver

Rêver
Et puis
Réaliser

Christina Egan © 2018

Castle with turrets directly on high street, with life-size statues of historical figures in front.Bridge over river lined by ancient stone and brick buildings with steep gables.

The ancient, splendid, vast city of Ghent, Belgium. Photographs: Christina Egan © 2018.

In Starless Night

~ Christina Egan ~ Leave a comment

In sternloser Nacht

In sternloser Nacht
ein Silberfleck auf dem Moos:
verirrtes Fröschlein…
In den Garten, ins Gedicht
und hinaus hüpfen Frösche!

Muddy pond with tadpole amongst aquatic plants.

In the starless night
a silver speck on the moss:
a little lost frog…
In and out of my garden,
of my poems, those frogs hop!

Christina Egan © 2017

Muddy pond with waterlilies amongst greenery.

For another tanka about frogs in honour of Basho, see Waiting for the Frog.

Frog pond. Note the tiny tadpole! Photographs: Christina Egan © 2014.

Durch uns durch / The Letter that was Never Sent

~ Christina Egan ~ Leave a comment

Durch uns durch

Der Baum des Lebens spannt sich himmelweit,
um uns herum und durch uns durch verzweigt.
Verwandt, verflochten sind wir,– Wirklichkeit,
die unterm windgepeitschten Widerstreit
niemand mehr wahrnimmt, niemand mehr bezeugt.

Die Menschenchronik spricht von Krieg und schweigt
von tiefverwurzelter Verbundenheit;
der mondenhelle Engelskodex schreibt
in Purpurlettern für die Ewigkeit
von durch und durch verwobner Menschenzeit.

Christina Egan © 2018

Ancient codex in neat rounded golden letters set in purple frames.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Codex Aureus of Lorsch, written around 810 AD in inks containing real gold or purple. Photograph: Wikimedia Commons.

The Letter that was Never Sent

It was of solid purple paper,
set out in blocks of golden ink,
an extract from a pagan gospel:
the letter that was never sent,

the letter that was never written,
but golden breathed in someone’s brain
and purple ran in someone’s veins –
the letter that was dreamt in vain.

Christina Egan © 2012

descending (Sankt Andreas)

~ Christina Egan ~ Leave a comment

descending

from the rainbow-crossed twilight
down the narrow winding stairs
to the star-studded nightfall

from the church
to the crypt

from windows
to candles

descending far back in time
back into the sheltering earth
onto the threshold of heaven

from quiet
to silence

from proximity
to presence

the vaulted stairway awaits you
at the back of the ancient church
and hidden in your own heart

Christina Egan © 2018

(Sankt Andreas, Cologne)

Traces of colour on the floor from church windows: blurred bright patches.

This poem is best read very slowly, as if you were indeed walking down an ancient staircase at the back of a silent church…

Around the world-famous Cathedral, the twelve Romanesque churches of Cologne outdo each other in age, size, and beauty!

For German verse inspired by the mediaeval churches of Cologne, see Zugewogen, a poem on faith and destiny published in a previous edition of the Münsterschwarzacher Bildkalender.

Photograph by 3268zauber: Traces of colour from church windows on the floor in Baden-Baden, Germany.

I’ve Caught a Star

~ Christina Egan ~ Leave a comment

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

herbeigehofft

~ Christina Egan ~ Leave a comment

herbeigehofft

I.

augenblau
augenblick
blütenstaub
über deinem schreibtisch

augenblank
augenblitz
sternenstaub
an deiner straßenkreuzung

hattest du mich nicht erwartet
in jenem jahr?
hab ich mich nicht herangesehnt
immer schon?

wie die schwüle überquillt
in einen wolkenbruch
so die nieerklärte
neue liebe

ein beinahenichts
kaffeehaustischklein
kann umschlagen in
ein beinahealles

II.

blauauge
blickauge
was stehst du
über meinem schreibtisch?

blankauge
blitzauge
was suchst du
an meiner straßenkreuzung?

hast du mich doch gefunden
in der urwaldwelt?
hab ich dich doch herbeigehofft
im halbschlaf?

überquellen will ich
um mitternacht
in eine unverzeichnete
umarmung

ein beinahezuspät
bilderrahmenklein
kann aufsprühen in
ein beinaheewig

Christina Egan © 2017 

im angesicht der sonne

~ Christina Egan ~ Leave a comment

im angesicht der sonne

im angesicht der sonne
steht aufrecht
und einsam
die erste osterglocke

auferstanden
aus der schweren schwarzen erde
freudestrahlend
daß es endlich lichter werde

winterwendend
düftespendend
sich verschwendend
sonnengleich

Christina Egan © 2019

Für Sr. Petra de Resurgente

Huge liturgical book with very large writing and music, richly illuminatedServices for Easter morning: “Sunday of the Resurrection”. —
Photograph: by ignis [CC BY-SA 3.0], via Wikimedia Commons.

Purple Dusk (Bankside, London)

~ Christina Egan ~ Leave a comment

Nocturne in Purple and Grey
(Bankside, London)

Hemmed with the sequins of lamps
the silver carpet of the river,
the lilac scarves of the bridges, the buildings.

People are blown about like brown leaves.
A few boats float, dozing,
awaiting brighter days.

The hues of lily and lavender
rise, for a moment, and blend,
with a pale memory of their scents.

Great and grey, the river strides past,
great and grey, the moment slides past,
like a graceful line of wild geese.

Christina Egan © 2005

River scene in dreamy bluish hues: gigantic bridge pillar, man on small boat, city on shore.

 

An early-spring impression in pale lilac and silvery grey. Bankside is the southern shore of the Thames in London.

Many years after I wrote those lines, I noticed the similarity with Turner’s mesmerising Nocturnes and renamed the text!

For a German poem depicting purple dusk see ostseeschlaflied (Darß).

 

Nocturne in Blue and Gold. Oil painting by J. A. M. Whistler, showing Battersea Bridge in London, ca. 1872-1875. Tate Gallery, London.