Brief Encounter (II/III)
Out of the sea,
out of thick mist, a reddish
disc rose: the sun on a wilful day.
It was around solstice, but it would not
bring enough light, nor enough heat.
It tasted like honey, hazelnut cream,
like the unbearable sweetness of a rose
you can feel on your tongue, it tasted
like grapes, a whole bowl full,
or it might have.
Christina Egan ©2024
Visual poetry: Brief Encounter (I).
Text and design: Christina Egan ©2024.
Westminster Bridge, Mitte März
Im Überfluß hingeschüttet, schimmernd
und erstmals wieder erquickend
der Sonnenschein, und schon erstreckt sich
aus silbernen Plättchen gehämmert
das Straßenpflaster, entrollt sich
die hellblaue Teppichbahn
des Stromes, schon stemmen sich,
stumme starke Löwenflanken,
die Brückenpfeiler empor, ragen
lotrecht die Honigwaben
der Sandsteinfassaden, rasselt
endlos das bunte Geröll
der Menschenmassen vorüber…
Und unabwendbar naht sich
die Machtergreifung des Lichtes.
Christina Egan © 2014
The rhythmic stream of words recreates an everyday and vibrating scene: the enlivening flow of the spring sunshine; the rolling-out of a silver carpet and a blue carpet — Westminster Bridge and the River Thames; an avalanche of colourful boulders or pebbles — people from all over the world; and the upward pull of the bridge pillars and mighty buildings — the Houses of Parliament.
Mer de miel
(Sète)
Levez vos yeux vers ce vitrail doré,
d’un jaune plus doux, d’un jaune plus pâle possible :
une baie cernée de hauts rochers
d’un bleu brumeux… Un crépuscule paisible.
Clignez vos yeux à ce vitrail distant,
mer de miel, montagne mauve, sauvage :
tout flotte au dessus de l’horizon –
des eaux de feu, une terre de nuages !
Ce paysage d’un or incomparable
s’évanouit et passe, une image…
Ou serait ça la côte impérissable
et notre terre et mer le grand mirage ?
Christina Egan © 2016
This poem takes up an idea from ancient pagan and Christian philosophy: our world may be only a pale reflexion of a higher, perfect, world. Those ‘heavens’, however, are an inaccessible and unimaginable place — beyond our universe — for which the visible sky is only an image.
The fiery sunset which took me quite literally ‘out of this world’ occurred in midwinter on one of the northernmost beaches of the Mediterranean, at the outskirts of Sète. For a daytime poem and photograph on the sea around Sète, see La Mer, enfin.
Photographs: The sky above the coast in Sète, France. Christina Egan © 2016
Christina Egan 