sonnwendkind
dem normgerechten
hochleistungsfähigen
menschenkäfig
aus stahlundglas
entronnen
fürfünfminuten
aufundab-
wandern in
windatem und
sonnenkuß
stille-
stehen
sich um-
schauen
sich
strecken
dem menschenkäfig
entwendet
von heimlicher
lebensflut
unter unsichtbaren
sternenspiralen
aufundab-
steigen in
heckenduft und
möwenruf
sonnenstrahl
sein
immerzu unterwegs
immer schon angekommen
menschenkind
sonnwendkind
Christina Egan ©2019
flying
The Keystone of the Sky
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
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
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…
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
*
What makes these musings verse is sound, rhyme, and rhythm. To read aloud!
*
This poem was published in the Münsterschwarzacher Bildkalender 2023, on the back of this beautiful image. (Photograph: Peacock butterfly. kie-ker via Pixabay.)
*
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
La table jaune
La table jaune limpide,
couleur de tournesol,
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
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
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
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.
*
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
The Spell of Spring
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)
Eat the World
When you get older,
you want to eat the world
for breakfast.
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.
Christina Egan 