Rosen wie Splitter
(Juli-Haiku)
*
Rosen wie Splitter
von Mittagsglut, Mondnacht
und Sonnenuntergang.
*
Warm und schwer von Düften
schwappt die Luft durch den Park,
lacht lautlos der Teich.
*
Goldene Blüten,
tausend Trompeten, hörbar
nur für die Engel.
*
Christina Egan © 2001
Photograph: Christina Egan © 2014
Views of North Sea Islands – Ansichten von Nordseeinseln
Thick patches of moss
clustering on rippled thatch
like verdant islands,
like the islands we stand on:
growing in the rough grey sea.
Dicke Moospolster
auf dem welligen Reetdach,
gleich grünen Inseln,
gleich diesen Inseln hier,
wachsend im wilden grauen Meer.
Red clover blossom:
tiny magenta lanterns
in the green and blue,
feeding on the salty floods
across these flat floating disks.
Rosaroter Klee:
winzige Laternen
in all dem Grün und Blau,
genährt von Salzfluten
über schwebende Scheiben hin.
Huge ships approaching,
or space-ships – or are they hills,
or houses on stilts?
They are houses, hamlets, islets…
a necklace of glass beads.
Da – Riesenschiffe –
Raumschiffe – oder Hügel,
Häuser auf Stelzen?
Häuser, Dörfchen, Inselchen…
eine Glasperlenkette.
English texts: Christina Egan © 2015
German texts: Christina Egan ©2016
Photographs: Christina Egan © 2014
Galerie Nieblum on Föhr; Hallig Hooge.
Satellite picture: NASA via Wikimedia.
From the flat, small, oval island of Föhr, you spot the even flatter, even smaller islands known as ‘Halligen’: their clusters of houses and trees on little dells are visible on the horizon far across the ocean.
The Halligen still get regularly flooded and are occasionally menaced by devastation. All these islands change shape over time, when the forces of wind and water eat away at their edges or add new land.
I wrote about a similar phenomenon observed on the Baltic Sea island of the Darss in Schöpfung (Darß).
Orange Butterflies
(Monarch Butterflies)
Brittle ochre leaves…
No – sinewy butterflies,
waiting through winter!
*
Orange butterflies,
tiny, tender, untiring,
crossing continents.
*
A swift golden cloud:
a million bright butterflies
following their stars.
*
Christina Egan © 2016
Monarch butterflies cluster in Santa Cruz, California.
Photograph by Brocken Inaglory via Wikimedia Commons.
May Haiku
(Bruce Castle)
Glowing orange orbs,
cluster of new-born planets:
this year’s first roses!
*
Dusk, delayed, scented:
the earth emerged from the dark,
bedecked like a bride.
*
Below the half-moon
a low-flying aeroplane
slices up the sky.
*
The tower-clock strikes,
bright, as if an angel called:
Be alive! Alive!
Christina Egan © 2013
—
You can see a photo of Bruce Castle, Tottenham, London and read some similar poetry in German at Himmelblaue Uhr.
There’s Door on Door
There’s door on door of painted wood
with potted plants and polished brass,
there’s row on row of gabled roofs,
there’s brick and plaster, hedge and grass.
There’s floor on floor of balconies,
above the din, above the dust,
inclusive of commodities,
there’s stone and concrete, steel and glass.
There’s door on door, there’s floor on floor,
but not for me, but not for me –
there’s brick and brass, there’s steel and glass,
exclusive of humanity.
There’s door on door, there’s floor on floor,
but not for us, but not for us –
one has a sofa in a store,
one has an archway in the dust.
Christina Egan © 2015
By the Brittle Brown Fence
By the brittle brown fence,
bright, arresting the eye,
an explosion of pink,
pure pink!
Low, silent, intense, incessant,
a pillow of raspberry colour,
triumphant trumpet
of early summer:
my azalea
in May!
Christina Egan © 2006
The shape of the poem emulates the content…
and in this display, it is also true for the colour!
Ich steh’ im Felde wie der Lindenbaum
Ich steh’ im Felde wie der Lindenbaum,
im Frühlingswind verloren und im Traum…
Ich schaue auf die blauen Höhn,
die kühn wie Vorzeitbauten stehn.
Ich lausche auf den Vogelsang,
in meinen Adern steigt ein Drang!
Ich schaue auf den Horizont,
von dem mir meine Hoffnung kommt.
Ich steh’ im Felde wie der Lindenbaum,
in Frühlingsnacht verloren und im Traum…
Ich schaue auf die Stadt im Tal
mit Erdensternen ohne Zahl.
In meinen Adern steigt der Saft,
ich streck’ mich mit versteckter Kraft!
Bevor noch süß die Linde blüht,
blüht früh und süß der Linde Lied.
Christina Egan © 2012
—
The mountain range on the horizon is the Rhön and the city in the valley is Fulda, Germany. There are more lines to this poem to make a song of it: part wistful and part hopeful, part heavy-hearted and part light-hearted!
The phrase ‘Town in the valley’ is echoed in the poem of the same name, Stadt im Tal.
April Rules the Land
(April haiku)
April rules the land,
leaden and golden in turns,
wayward as we are.
*
Oxford Street, busy,
a splintered rainbow, patterns,
shaken and broken.
*
The white narcissus
sings with a voice as sweet as
her brother blackbird.
Christina Egan © 2000
—
The last haiku originally referred to ‘the ivory rose’, although in England, outdoor roses do not blossom yet in April. When I changed the wording to ‘the white narcissus’ to link it to the season and month, I did not know that the flower’s official name is Narcissus poeticus, or Poet’s Narcissus!
The ivory rose
sings with a voice as sweet as
her brother blackbird.
In Marrakesch
Einst fiel ein Regenbogen auf die Wüste
zersplitterte in funkelnde Oasen
in Perlen Spiegel abertausend Tücher
in Brunnen Palmen abertausend Rosen
Zum Regenbogen wird der Horizont
zum schwarzen Drachenkamm das Hochgebirg
und über kühnen Türmen hängt der Mond
wenn Dunkelheit das Mauerrund umwirbt
Und immer Hupen Räder Rufen Reden
Laternen Tänzerinnen wie zum Fest
Dies ist die Stadt wo jede Nacht das Leben
ein Feuerwerk ist: Dies ist Marrakesch!
Christina Egan © 2012
—
There is a longer version of this poem, as lyrics for a love song, for once a happy one…
This text may work in a translation software. You can read an English poem about Marrakesh at Winter Sunrise in Morocco.
The Square of the Dead is incidentally the most lively place on the planet. You must visit it after dusk to get the full experience. Nothing prepares you for Marrakesh!
Photograph: Square of the Dead, Marrakesh, Morocco. Christina Egan © 2012
Warmer Wind Surges
(March Haiku)
*
Warmer wind surges
impatiently from the shore,
stirring blood-red leaves.
*
First gleam of yellow
in the forgotten garden –
a nugget of gold!
*
Yellow crocuses:
a carpet of candle flames
glowing all day long.
*
Christina Egan © 2013
Christina Egan 