Radiance
You did not see the star
touching your chimney
nor did you feel the moon
touching your shoulder.
You yearned for the shift of the seasons,
expected the change of the clocks,
but not the shift of the colours,
the liquid gold in the air.
You did not see your radiance,
but someone else did,
your grace that carries like scent
before you have spoken a word.
When the sky was blue glass,
when the moon was a sphere,
a hand held up a mirror,
a wind kissed your hair.
Christina Egan ©2021
Dancing on the Beach
Dancing on the Beach
I woke up to a world
where the bears and the bees
had not cast their ballots
but the humans had:
a brave brand-new world
where an abundance
of guns guaranteed
safety and peace,
where an ample range
of promises rained down
on the fields like fertiliser,
tremendous and toxic,
and where the deceitful tongue
was spreading like the olive-tree
in the house of God,
laughing us to scorn.
I woke up to a crowd
dancing on the beach, drunk,
while the floods were gathering
from the heights and the horizon,
a world watching and filming
on ten thousand screens
its boats and its bridges
falling apart. I woke up.
Christina Egan ©2024
On Nov. 5th, 2024, it became evident that the great project of democracy
is about to destroy itself, taking the whole of our civilisation with it.
Noch ist nicht aller Tage Abend
Noch ist nicht aller Tage Abend
Noch ist nicht aller Tage Abend,
der Sommer noch nicht ausgebrannt,
noch will die Feige Frucht dir tragen,
entfaltet sich dir ohne Fragen
die Erde ohne Riß und Rand.
Noch ist nicht aller Nächte Morgen,
noch paßt der Mond in deine Hand!
Noch ziehen Störche gegen Norden,
noch will der Wildbach überborden…
Noch harrt die Perle dir im Sand.
Christina Egan ©2021
My birthday poem for myself!
Images of ebullient life-force built on
the proverb “It is not the last evening yet”.
See last year’s post Still Here (Still striding)
and a poem written for a 50th birthday,
Eat the World (When you get older)!
Die Spur des Mars / The Trace of Mars
Die Spur des Mars
Unbeirrbar rollt die Straße,
über Hügel, über Flüsse
schnurgerade hingebreitet
wie ein Strahl vom flammendroten
goldstückgroßen Himmelsboten:
Mars hat Rom hierhergeleitet.
Christina Egan ©2020
The Trace of Mars
Resolutely, the road rolls
over rivers, over hills,
laid out strangely straight and clear,
issued like a flaming ray
from the gold coin in the sky:
It is Mars that led Rome here.
Christina Egan ©2020
As ever, the first poem of the year admires the roads of the Romans. At Cassel in the north of France, you can see them radiate from a hill and run entirely straight, regardless of the landscape. They served very well to transport people, goods, and ideas, but were first of all laid to occupy and exploit regions. Mars in the poem above stands for war and aggression but also for courage and strength.
Silvester / It Is Harvest
Silvester
Wunderkerzen sprühen
und verglühen,
Sektbläschen blinken
und sinken…
und ein Gedanke blitzt auf!
Mit jedem Tag,
der dir entschwindet,
wirst du reicher
an Erlebnis,
an Erfahrung.
Mit jedem Jahr,
das dir verwelkt,
wächst du
an Geduld,
an Gelassenheit.
Christina Egan © 2013
It Is Harvest
So you thought life was past?
It has only begun.
For whatever you’ve lost
there is something you’ve won.
For whatever you’ve missed
there is something you’ve learned.
It is harvest: persist
and reap all that you earned.
Christina Egan ©2008
Photograph by Gabriel Pollard [CC BY-SA 2.5].
Featured picture on Wikimedia Commons.
650 poems posted on this site !
Happy New Year to everyone!
This is the word cloud (not of the tags but of the texts) of all English poems posted on this site in the past year. Another year of love and life and leaves… and of mass consumption, mass media, and mass murder.
With thanks to the excellent tool Simple Word Cloud Generator!
glanztanzend / dazzle-dancing
glanztanzend
glitzerndbunte
einzigartige
grußkarten
glückwünsche
aufgereiht
auf rotem faden
über kerzen
glanztanzend
dennochlächelnd
zurückzwinkernd
blickweckend
herzwärmend
glitzerndbunte
einzigartige
käfergedichte
lindwurmwörter
dank tinte
oder tastatur
überseesegelnd
überschallfliegend
von geist zu geist
von aug zu ohr
lautspielerei
wortzauberei
Christina Egan ©2023
dazzle-dancing
sparkly-motley
one-of-a-kind
greeting cards
congratulations
lined up on
red thread
above candles
dazzle-dancing
smiling anyway
winking back
awakening gazes
warming hearts
sparkly-motley
one-of-a-kind
little beetle poems
dragon’s tail words
overseas sailing
supersonic flying
thanks to ink
or keyboard
from mind to mind
from eye to ear
sound-play
word-spell
Christina Egan ©2024
The poem does what it describes: inventing words, lining them up, and sending them to others to greet them and cheer them up!
The newly coined terms had to be re-created in English – where they do of course not look as impressive. “lindwurmwörter”, for instance, really sounds and looks as long as a dragon, while “dragon’s tail words” looks like three words, even though I added the tail in to get a similar effect in meaning and length.
In England, many people hang Christmas cards up on golden strings. During the festive seasons of 2022/23 and 2023/24, I crafted many greeting cards myself, each of them unique.
Seasonal greeting cards. Artwork: Christina Egan ©2022/©2023/©2024. Photographs: Miriam Hornsby ©2024.
glitzernder schnee
glitzernder schnee
glitzernder schnee
knisternder schnee
nicht kaltweiß sondern
regenbogensprühend
über die dinge
hingebreitet
bis an die weißhäuptigen gipfel
am rande der welt
liegt die
stille
wenn du nur hinschaust
wenn du nur hinhörst
Christina Egan ©2016
Für Sr. Ancilla Wißling
Shooting-stars (Damp Wood)
Shooting-stars
Damp wood, damp walls: the world smells of decay.
The scented roses are resurgent, yet
too many leaves are falling, fallen, wet
across the spotless lawn, the winding way.
Above Bruce Castle’s reddish parapet
and wayward weather-vane, the veil of grey
is torn apart to let a dazzling ray
caress the clock-face, still for summer set.
The light is fierce and will not be subdued,
the clock smiles sky-blue with a rim of gold,
the grass is glittering and fresh and bold,
and then the sky itself triumphs, renewed.
All this eclipsing, flash on flash, they pass:
the parakeets, a dozen shooting-stars.
Christina Egan ©2020
Photograph: Christina Egan ©2017.
This sonnet was read at an
event of Tottenham Trees
at Bruce Castle Museum
in November 2024, together
with Thought Bench and
Hollow Oak (Anglo-Saxon spell).
I Do Not Ask for Love / A Thousand Leaves
I Do Not Ask for Love
I do not ask for love,
for I have none to give –
and yet I beg for life,
for leave to make you live,
to live as if the day
were fitting like a glove,
to breathe as if to pray
to beauty were enough,
to tremble as if time
had finished or begun,
to let two faces shine
as if two hearts were one.
I do not ask for words
of last or lasting love,
I cannot offer worlds –
one kiss shall be enough.
Christina Egan ©2006
A Thousand Leaves
A thousand leaves in brownish bronze,
a thousand leaves thrust by the wind,
a rustling sea… a jostling crowd…
And then, with sudden sunset glint,
with guileless smile, one reaches out.
Christina Egan ©2010
Sycamore leaf. Photograph: Christina Egan ©2020.
Weiße Seide
Weiße Seide
Jeder Psalm mit sichrer Stimme,
jedes wirre Stoßgebet
ist ein Ruf, der Erd’ und Himmel
unsichtbar zusammenfleht,
ist ein Stich von weißer Seide,
wie auch immer er gerät,
der entzweigerissne Kleider
unbemerkt zusammennäht.
Gottes Mäntel, Gottes Säume
sind die Himmel und die Welt,
die das Echo seiner Träume
Ton um Ton zusammenhält.
Christina Egan ©2020
This poem is published in next year’s calendar of photographs and texts,
Münsterschwarzacher Bildkalender 2025. –
Photograph: Beach of Wyk on Föhr, Germany. Christina Egan ©2014.
Christina Egan 