flying

The Keystone of the Sky

~ Christina Egan ~ Leave a comment

The Keystone of the Sky

When you see the sea-gull rising
From the glowing sand and sea
Through the narrow iron railings
Of your room and balcony

When you see the sea-gull soaring
From the far end of the quay
At the far end of the island:
Know that you will soon be free

When you see the sea-gull floating
Like the keystone of the sky
Like the king of land and ocean:
Know that you will rise as high

You will cross the glassy water
On a warm auspicious wind
You will sparkle like the crescent
Risen from the ocean’s rim

When you see the sea-gull rising
From the glowing sand and sea
Let your heart be lifted with it:
Know that you will soon be free

Christina Egan  ©2013

>>> Waiting to be set to music!

Lautlose Rede

~ Christina Egan ~ Leave a comment

Lautlose Rede

Kurven von Tinte und Ketten von Lettern,
Wörter und Worte wie bunte Girlanden
steigen und ziehn über Erde und Meer…
Ketten von Lettern, die leuchten und flattern,
bunte Girlanden, die kreisen und landen,
zaubern dir lautlose Rede her…

Es ist bloß Papier, es sind bloß Gedanken,
doch bringen sie Herzen und Häuser ins Wanken
und fallen gleich Samen in wartenden Sand.
Was ist das Geheimnis der Blätter, der Briefe?
Als ob eine Seele die andere riefe…
Als ob ein Geist den andern entflammt!

Christina Egan ©2023

Three letters on colourful paper, with a real flower matching the ones pictured.

Some lovely handwritten letters from friends.
Photograph: Christina Egan ©2020.

With great thanks
to my friends who write letters to me –
some have done so for over forty years!

schweben und leben…

~ Christina Egan ~ 2 Comments

schweben und leben…

ich bin der schmetterling
der hoch am himmel hing

und flimmerte
und schimmerte

so daß der mensch der unten stand
als dunkler punkt im bunten park

den kopf hob und verwundert fand
wie hell die welt sei und wie stark –

wie klein er sei –
wie weit und frei

mein winziges und kurzes leben
in dem ich jubeln darf und schweben…

eben
leben…

Christina Egan ©2020

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Peacock butterfly, its bright-red and patterned wings spread out against a delicate green and white plant.

What makes these musings verse is sound, rhyme, and rhythm. To read aloud!

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This poem was published in the Münsterschwarzacher Bildkalender 2023, on the back of this beautiful image. (Photograph: Peacock butterfly. kie-ker via Pixabay.)

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It was inspired by a poem by Josef Haselberger. We have written and exchanged
poetry for a very long time. I have several friends who are poets, and so does he.

La table jaune

~ Christina Egan ~ Leave a comment

La table jaune

La table jaune limpide,
couleur de tournesol,
Table surface of bright yellow mosaic, with café chairs on the grass, sunlit.m’invite dans l’oasis
au cœur des plaines arides,
parmi palmiers et roses
en fleur sans fin, sans pause :
il met l’esprit au vol
vers les sommets saphir,
vers le soleil couchant,
mais fort même au nadir…

La table tournesol
est un tapis volant !
Mais il me manque le mot
qui le transforme, le pose
carrément aux epaules
des vents comme un radeau…
Ô table jaune et rouge,
écoute-moi et bouge,
transporte-moi aux flots
de l’air vers l’horizon !

Christina Egan © 2016

The yellow table in the oasis becomes a flying carpet: it lifts the mind up towards the high mountains. Yet, to lift the body up also, it requires a password, and we do not have it!

The rose garden is set in a country where the sun is strong even towards evening or in midwinter, and where roses are always in blossom in abundance: I found it in Morocco.

Photograph: Roadside café in Morocco in midwinter. Christina Egan © 2012.

 

Schlaflied / Die Riesenschaukel

~ Christina Egan ~ Leave a comment

Schlaflied
(Spätherbst)

Blätter fallen,
Regen fällt,
langsam schlafen
geht die Welt.

Schlaf’ auch du nun,
Mutter wacht.
Gute Ruhe,
gute Nacht.

Nebel wallen
und verwehn,
Schnee wird fallen,

Stern wird stehn.
Schlaf’ auch du nun,
Engel wacht.
Gute Träume,
gute Nacht.

(Für Johannes)

Christina Egan © 2009

Die Riesenschaukel

Papa, Jakob, Julian
stoßen ihre Schaukel an,
Schaukel mit dem Riesenkorb
trägt sie von der Erde fort.

Sie schaukeln und schwingen,
sie jauchzen und singen,
hinauf, hinauf, hurra!

Mama, Jakob, Julian
stoßen ihre Schaukel an,
fliegen übern feinen Sand,
fliegen übern Waldesrand.

Sie steigen und sinken,
sie lachen und winken,
hinauf, hinauf, hurra!

(Für Julian und Jakob)

Christina Egan © 2009

You can of course substitute your own names in this song, for instance ‘Vati, Klaus und Peter nun’ or ‘Mutti und Elisabeth’. Perhaps you can find tunes, too!

Daedalus on the Battlements

~ Christina Egan ~ Leave a comment

Daedalus on the Battlements

You drag your baggage through the crowd,
and from the loud and glaring maze
you spill into the heavy haze
of autumn fog and stifling fumes,
into a tube you crawl through tubes,
into a bullet aimed at space –

You soar, you blink, anticipate
some mellow light, some subtle blues –
And then you float above the dunes
of salty sand, the plains of ice,
the shadow of a sheet of cloud –
You sail above the blazing skies!

Christina Egan © 2016

Another return to Greece with winter sunshine even before I arrived: a sunset above the clouds! — Daedalus escaped the labyrinth by flying from its walls; the flaming sun plays a key role in this myth. 

You may get the sense of this poem quite well in a translation software.

A Patterned Carpet

~ Christina Egan ~ Leave a comment

Silk cloth dominated by vivid pinks and greens.A Patterned Carpet
(July Tanka)

A patterned carpet,
the city is unrolling
between the bus stops…
I roll it up in my eye
and send it on to a friend.

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Fountain in round basin in park, flanked by large flowerpots

Clouds, high in the sky,
saturated with sunshine,
rapidly drifting –
like currents across oceans,
like thoughts across continents.

Christina Egan © 2012

 

 

The idea of the big city as a woven carpet is  also pursued in the German poem Geflechte.

Photographs: Silk cloth from Madagascar. © The Trustees of the British Museum. — Schloßgarten Fulda. Christina Egan © 2014.

The Spell of Spring

~ Christina Egan ~ Leave a comment

The Spell of Spring

Japanese laquer picture: two flying geese above river in gold, full moon in silver.When seven geese arise and fly
in magic patterns through the sky,
the silver rings of cloud will blush,
the orb of sparse young green glow lush.

When seven geese cry out and glide
from wintertide to summertide,
we’ll pass an arbour like an arch
and be transformed by mighty March!

You have become my you, and I,
your you, and our hearts float high,
when seven geese sail out of sight
into the secrets of the night.

Christina Egan © 2015

Image from: Japan nach Reisen und Studien by J. J. Rein (1881-86). Provided by the British Library through Flickr.

Eat the World (When you get older)

~ Christina Egan ~ Leave a comment

Eat the World

When you get older,
you want to eat the world
for breakfast.

Colourful ancient glass window, prophet in red hat, red shoes, green cloak.When you get older,
you want to consult the radiant prophets
in the high sky-blue windows,
to soak up the tranquil cathedrals
of soaring silvery tree-trunks,
before the acid turns all of this
into sooty ruins.

You want to sprint to the station tonight
and jump on the train, shooting
through tunnels, under the city,
under the ocean, under the mountains,
through to the other side of the earth!

You want to slip into sleek capsules
to float up slopes, up skyscrapers,
up cliffs, up lighthouses,
up towards the clouds and
through the clouds!

When you get older,
you feel as if you could almost fly
into the sun already.

Christina Egan © 2017

Photograph: Prophet Hosea, window in Augsburg Cathedral, around 1100. By Hans Bernhard (Schnobby) (Own work) [CC BY-SA 3.0 or GFDL], via Wikimedia Commons.

Sambation

~ Christina Egan ~ Leave a comment

Sambation

O daß der Mühlenräderlärm der Plätze
verrauschte wie ein Sommerwolkenbruch,
das grelle purzelnde Geröll der Menge
versiegte in der Großstadtstraßenschlucht,

auf daß das Flußbett sich durchwandern ließe
an Pforten, Traufen, Blumentrog vorbei
und nur die Schwalbe in die Stille stoße,
hoch, froh, mit Sichelflug und Silberschrei.

O daß die Lichterstrecken, Lichterhaufen
verblaßten wie das Nordlicht überm Meer,
auf daß die Sterne aus dem Dunkel tauchten
wie ein mit Bronze überglänztes Heer!

Christina Egan © 2017

The mythical river Sambation at the edge of the known world cannot be crossed because it is wild and full of mud and rocks — or even consists of rocks instead of water.

Here, the busy streets of a big city are experienced as a ravine full of tumbling stones, while the screech like grinding millstones; by night, the galaxies of lamplights drown the stars.

The opposite images are the quiet riverbeds of empty streets; the silent sky punctuated by the flight and cry of a swallow; and then the stars re-emerging…

This poem will be published in the German-language calendar Münsterschwarzacher Bildkalender 2019 (available from mid-August).