Thirst
I.
I’m drawn to you by magnets,
I’m driven, drained with thirst –
yet later I’ll be grateful
that nothing happened first,
that I have always loved you
because you are yourself,
and not because you know me
or kissed me once in stealth.
II.
It is as if these vessels,
these smooth and sparkling words,
whose hollow space entices,
reflects, rejects and hurts,
got filled with blood-red spirit
of strong reality:
Desire. Joy. Surrender.
Embrace. Eternity.
Christina Egan © 2004
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
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
Strandkorb Song
What happened to the beach-seat
we found in Germany,
the bench within a basket
beside the Baltic Sea?
The land was lush and sunlit,
the air was pure and free,
the dusk was full of magic,
the surf a mystery.
What happened to the beach-seat
placed there for you and me?
What happened to the footsteps
along the singing sea?
You said you won’t forget it,
the dusk, the moon, and me.
Where has it gone, the moment
of blue eternity?
We cannot leave the basket,
in space and time so far:
it is a secret casket
which holds a sparkling star.
Christina Egan © 2017
‘Beach baskets’ in Ahlbeck on Usedom.
Photograph: Christina Egan © 2017.
Strandkörbe, ‘beach baskets’, or hooded beach seats, are an alluring feature of German beaches on both seas.
The story refers to the Midsummernight Far North I have described before on this website. I have developed Strandkorb Song further as lyrics.
Der Hunger
Der Hunger aber
Des Herzens ist gewaltig,
Heimlich und reißend,
Gleich des Löwen Rachen,
Des Vulkanes Fauchen.
Hilflos ist der Mensch
Mit seinem gescheitelten Haar,
Seinem hochgeschlagenen Kragen,
Seinem gestiefelten Schritt,
Seinem geflügelten Wort.
Niemals nämlich
Entkommt der Gewandte
Dem Befehle des Lebens,
Dem Feuersturm
Im eignen Gebein.
Christina Egan © 2013
This Is
Your face, lit up,
perhaps, by me,
eclipses morning star and moon –
one word from you,
or more, maybe,
would freeze the clock at burning noon.
Don’t stop your step,
don’t hold your breath,
don’t soothe yourself it is too soon:
this is the life
as strong as death
that you have craved for. Let it bloom.
Christina Egan © 2004
For love is strong as death,
passion fierce as the grave.
Its flashes are flashes of fire,
a raging flame.
Many waters cannot quench love,
neither can floods drown it.
If one offered for love
all the wealth of one’s house,
it would be utterly scorned.
Song of Solomon, 8, vi-vii.
Photograph: Christina Egan © 2017.
Get Up and Follow Me
Love sometimes does pass our little lives
and stops and speaks: Get up and follow me.
We look, look up, into each other’s eyes,
get up, leave all and follow hand in hand.
There is a love that’s larger than the sun,
it knows the shade, the night, it knows no end,
it’s definite and infinite, it flows
through our hearts, till two are truly one.
Christina Egan © 2000
These lines were inspired by the biblical stories of Jesus calling his followers, who literally got up, left everything behind and — followed him. Just imagine you are getting up from your desk this minute to walk out of your life!
I wrote this poem for my own wedding and recommend it also for anniversaries; a long time together is not eternity yet, but a great achievement and a great gift. Perhaps you could even use it for Valentine’s Day.
Steigt später Morgen
Im nackten Gehölz
am Horizont gen Osten
steigt später Morgen:
das schwächste, stillste Feuer,
der dennoch gleißende Kreis.
Christina Egan © 2015
Laub leuchtet auf
Durch die Wolken bricht
Glanz, Gleißen. Laub leuchtet auf,
rührt sich und flüstert.
Nur diesen Augenblick
haben wir, aber auf ewig.
Christina Egan © 2015
The first tanka celebrates the sunrise
in midwinter; the second conjures up
a flare of sunshine in midsummer.
Eternity can be experienced in this life:
in the moment — and perhaps in the
moment alone.
For another experience of tranquillity
through light and dark in midwinter, go to
In Praise of Darkness / Lob der Stille.
Nonnenkloster
Schneegleich
steigt Schweigen
aus den steilen Wänden,
aus den gefalteten Händen,
den vornübergeneigten Schleiern.
Und doch ist alles ein Feiern,
als sei, wenn es schneit,
ein Staub von Gold
über die Gärten gestreut…
Zeit, Zeit
tickt hier laut
in den langen dunklen Uhren,
in den blankbefliesten Fluren,
weil die Ewigkeit
sie so beschwert
wie Wasser eine weiße Schüssel.
Und jeder geschmiedete Schlüssel,
der gegen ein Gitter klappert,
klingt
wie ein Versprechen,
das Gott nicht brechen will.
Es singt
am Rasenrand
der Schneeglöckchenchor,
ein besticktes Band.
Und jede ungeschmückte Wand
durchdringt
das goldne Schweigen
wie der Frühlingssonne sanfte Hand.
Christina Egan © 2006
—
I owe this overpowering experience of peaceful silence to the Carmelite monasteries of London (Most Holy Trinity) and Cologne (Maria vom Frieden), which are based on a philosophy of shared “silence and solitude”.
Photographs:
Liturgical book for Eastertide (1450s). Sailko via Wikimedia Commons. —
Nunnery garden, hidden in the midst of a big city. Christina Egan © 2014
Christina Egan 