pearls

Noch ist nicht aller Tage Abend

~ Christina Egan ~ Leave a comment
Two storks in a nest, standing very close together, surmounted by a triangular tree and a steep roof, in the dusk.
Photograph: Storks’ nest in Wyk on Föhr, Germany. Christina Egan ©2014.

Noch ist nicht aller Tage Abend

Noch ist nicht aller Tage Abend,
der Sommer noch nicht ausgebrannt,
noch will die Feige Frucht dir tragen,
entfaltet sich dir ohne Fragen
die Erde ohne Riß und Rand.

Noch ist nicht aller Nächte Morgen,
noch paßt der Mond in deine Hand!
Noch ziehen Störche gegen Norden,
noch will der Wildbach überborden…
Noch harrt die Perle dir im Sand.

Christina Egan ©2021

My birthday poem for myself!
Images of ebullient life-force built on
the proverb “It is not the last evening yet”.

See last year’s post Still Here (Still striding)
and a poem written for a 50th birthday,
Eat the World (When you get older)!

Indigo Pond

~ Christina Egan ~ Leave a comment

Indigo Pond
(Hiroshige, Wisteria)

Deep blue sky, deep blue pond.
Two black-and-white feathers
drifting – no, two ducks!
Two specks in the indigo
like two pearls in enamel.

*

The arched wooden bridge
is as steep as a rainbow,
exasperating.
So we meet only rarely
right above the brilliant blue.

Christina Egan © 2016

Lower half dark blue water, upper half very steep bridge and branches in cream colours, dark blue strip of sky at top

Utagawa Hiroshige: Wisteria at Kameido Tenjin Shrine (1856). One hundred famous views of Edo, No. 57.

With thanks to the Royal Academy of Arts for the postcard and to the British Museum for the digital image.

In this Japanese verse pattern, the first three lines of each poem could stand for themselves, while the last two add another aspect.

Quintessence

~ Christina Egan ~ Leave a comment

Quintessence

I’ll fill a crystal flask
with silver melodies,
a magic drop to last
for years and centuries.

I shall distil my days
to mellow poetry,
and distant lands will taste
the quintessence of me.

I’ll fill a crystal flask
with pearls of memory:
my solitary task,
my faithful alchemy.

The five pure elements’
fifth essence, finally,
their forces and their scents:
as fresh as fiery!

Christina Egan © 2016

Photograph: Glass flask by Eugenes, found in Syria,
3rd c. AD. © The Trustees of the British Museum.
I  had similar flasks from the Roman era in mind
when I wrote the poem but did not know this one.

Kerzenbekrönt

~ Christina Egan ~ Leave a comment

Kerzenbekrönt

Senkt sich die Dämmrung an frostigen Tagen
– früher denn jemals, doch zauberhaft blau –
hängt über stolzen gewölbten Mansarden,
hält über giebelgeschmückten Fassaden,
bannt aus dem Geiste das leidige Grau.

Stürzen Gestirne herab in Kaskaden
– feucht ist das Pflaster, doch goldengetönt –
spannen sich Perlen an Faden um Faden
blinkend und bebend von Laden zu Laden
bis an die Kirchtürme, kerzenbekrönt.

Christina Egan © 2016

This poem was inspired by a front page photograph of the superb newspaper Agora  in Fulda, Germany, which I had folded over. Then I noticed that beneath the idyllic historical street lit up for Christmas, an industrial container had been inserted through photo montage: as a makeshift home for a refugee family. I felt I had to write a second poem, which you can find at Farbechte Hoffnung.

The street shown is Friedrichstraße, which gives you quite a good impression of past centuries, despite severe damage during the Second World War and ensuing changes. Fulda is quite good for midwinter holidays because of the Christmas Market, the nativity scenes in the churches, numerous festive events… and the snow in the mountains.

Red Balloon

~ Christina Egan ~ Leave a comment

Red Balloon

In the crowd,
in the too early dark,
the enveloping damp, I rush,
crush onto the red bus, and there,
on the front bench, you are, as if waiting
for me, or at least hoping for me, with a smile,
a wide warm smile, just like the one you gave me
nineteen years ago, with the same smooth oval face;
and our words change the day into a string of pearls,
change the city into a cluster of colourful balloons;
in the damp dark evening, I feel the sun rising,
feel a breeze rising, taking my heart with it,
like a little red balloon, weightless,
into shadeless heights, we are
two bouncing balloons
on a red bus!
And
I love you
so
…
…
…
…
…

Christina Egan © 2016

Poem Red Balloon in the shape of a red balloon.

This poem was published in the
Tottenham Community Press,
No. 32, March 2020, p. 14.

There is also a wedding or
anniversary poem about a
Yellow Balloon !

Die Perle im Acker

~ Christina Egan ~ Leave a comment

Die Perle im Acker

Die eine runde Stunde
in deinem Zauberkreis —
Das Licht im Augengrunde,
von dem du selbst nicht weißt —
Musik aus deinem Munde,
die Seligkeit verheißt —
Die Perle ist gefunden,
ich zahle jeden Preis!

Christina Egan © 2016

—

Wiederum gleicht das Himmelreich einem Kaufmann,
der gute Perlen suchte, und als er eine kostbare Perle
fand, ging er hin und verkaufte alles, was er hatte, und
kaufte sie.

Mt 13, 45-46

—

These lines may work in a translation software…
although I would not claim to find ‘salvation’ in
a human being, only ‘bliss’ (but this indeed)!