Buchenland
Schon der Frühherbst
Schüttet Nebel aus
Über die Hügel hin
Haufenweis.
So verschwimmt mir der Pfad
Bevor noch die Buchen brennen
Und die stolzen Wiesen vergehn
Zu lustlosem Staub.
Doch unterm zerklüfteten Fels
Sitzt sommersatt das Moos
Blüht mondhell die Distel
Aufs Geheiß verborgener Geister.
Christina Egan © 2013
—
heimaterde
unter der haut
schimmert sie durch
die rote krume
der ich entwuchs
hinter den augen
blinzelt es vor
das urgestein
schwarz und gewaltig
unter dem haar
wirbeln sie hoch
nebel und wind
die mich umfingen
unter der zunge
schlummert sie noch
die fruchtbare sprache
die mich entfachte
Christina Egan © 2013
—
The first poem describes an autumnal landscape with trees in flaming colours and fog drifting in the dales. The name, Land of Beech Trees, stems from the times when most of Germany was covered by dense forests.
Nature appears as animate, sentient, and even spiritual: the meadow is proud and the moss content, while hidden spirits command a thistle to blossom bright as the moon.
The second poem reminds us that our bodies are made of the world around us — the air and water, the earth and its fruit, the flesh and bone of our ancestors — while our minds are moulded by the language of our parents and ancestors.
The speaker imagines that red soil shines through his or her cheeks and black rock blinks through her pupils, while her hair is softened by thick fog and tousled by rough wind.
These words were inspired by the landscape and climate of the Rhön Mountains in Germany.
Their symbol is a rare wildflower, the silver thistle.
Photograph: „Carlina acaulis 160907“
by Bernd Haynold via Wikimedia Commons
Christina Egan 