pink

Views of North Sea Islands

~ Christina Egan ~ Leave a comment

Views of North Sea Islands – Ansichten von Nordseeinseln

White cottage, steep thatched roof, covered with moss

 

Thick patches of moss
clustering on rippled thatch
like verdant islands,
like the islands we stand on:
growing in the rough grey sea.

Diagonal horizon, entirely flat between green and blue, with house in middle

Dicke Moospolster
auf dem welligen Reetdach,
gleich grünen Inseln,
gleich diesen Inseln hier,
wachsend im wilden grauen Meer.

Thatched roof, covered with moss

Red clover blossom:
tiny magenta lanterns
in the green and blue,
feeding on the salty floods
across these flat floating disks.

Diagonal horizon, entirely flat between green and blue, with house in middle

 

Rosaroter Klee:
winzige Laternen
in all dem Grün und Blau,
genährt von Salzfluten
über schwebende Scheiben hin.

Thatched roof, covered with moss

 

Huge ships approaching,
or space-ships – or are they hills,
or houses on stilts?
They are houses, hamlets, islets…
a necklace of glass beads.

 

Satellite image of a cluster of small emerald green islands

 

Da – Riesenschiffe –
Raumschiffe – oder Hügel,
Häuser auf Stelzen?
Häuser, Dörfchen, Inselchen…
eine Glasperlenkette.

English texts: Christina Egan © 2015
German texts: Christina Egan ©2016

Photographs: Christina Egan © 2014
Galerie Nieblum on Föhr; Hallig Hooge.
Satellite picture: NASA via Wikimedia.

From the flat, small, oval island of Föhr, you spot the even flatter, even smaller islands known as ‘Halligen’: their clusters of houses and trees on little dells are visible on the horizon far across the ocean.

The Halligen still get regularly flooded and are occasionally menaced by devastation. All these islands change shape over time, when the forces of wind and water eat away at their edges or add new land.

I wrote about a similar phenomenon observed on the Baltic Sea island of the Darss in Schöpfung (Darß).

Himmelblaue Uhr (Tottenham)

~ Christina Egan ~ Leave a comment

Himmelblaue Uhr
(Schloßpark zu Tottenham)

Die Dämmrung senkt sich auf die Flur.
In Vogelsang
tropft Glockenklang
von einer himmelblauen Uhr
an einem himbeerfarbnen Turm.

Die Rosen schimmern wie Laternen.
Von ringsum her
summt der Verkehr.
Ein Flugzeug funkelt zwischen Sternen
und segelt durch Kornblumenfernen…

Die Wetterfahne blinkt am Mast.
Ein Ruf, Gebell,
der Uhrschlag, hell –
Und alle Sorge, alle Hast
kommt zwischen Tor und Tor zur Rast.

Christina Egan © 2016

Manor house in red brick, turret painted in pink, with a red door, white decorations, and a bright-blue clockface, under a blue sky.

You can read similar poetry about a walk on a tranquil evening at May Haiku (Bruce Castle).

This is London, too — not only the steel and glass office blocks and underground tunnels I describe in höhlenmenschen / cavemen and related posts, or the bitter poverty I touch on in There’s door on door. London is, in fact, a particularly green city, and Tottenham a very green part of it.

Bruce Castle, Tottenham, London.
Photograph: Christina Egan © 2014

By the Brittle Brown Fence

~ Christina Egan ~ Leave a comment

By the Brittle Brown Fence

By the brittle brown fence,
bright, arresting the eye,
an explosion of pink,
pure pink!
Low, silent, intense, incessant,
a pillow of raspberry colour,
triumphant trumpet
of early summer:
my azalea
in May!

Christina Egan © 2006

The shape of the poem emulates the content…
and in this display, it is also true for the colour!

Der Baum im Schulhof

~ Christina Egan ~ Leave a comment

Der Baum im Schulhof
(Marienschule Fulda)

Das Bäumchen stand im rosa Kleid,
das Mädchen stand im blauen;
sie waren fünfzehn Jahre alt
und lieblich anzuschauen,
wenn auch noch zierlich, kindlich gar,
nichts als ein Bündel Blüten…
Im Norden lag ein gelbes Haus,
der Schulhof lag im Süden.

Und als sie sich nun wiedersehn
in eben jenen Mauern,
da sind sie fünfzig Jahre alt
und herrlich anzuschauen,
wie Wolken stattlich hingewölbt
und strahlend unter Schauern:
der Baum im dunkelrosa Kleid,
die Frau im dunkelblauen.

Christina Egan © 2015

—

You can look at the blossoming  Tree in the Schoolyard
and the yellow building online at Marienschule Fulda. 

The story of the schoolgirl and the tree, meeting at fifteen
years old and then at fifty, may work in a translation software.

Winter Sunrise in Morocco / in England

~ Christina Egan ~ Leave a comment

Winter Sunrise in Morocco

Orange tree full of fruit and rose tree with large roses in front of high pink wallsthe rainbow scarf of the sky
stretched out above the battlements

awesome and unnoticed
by the markets which never sleep

and millions of golden roses
rolled out along the highways

in the carved and inlaid caskets
of the powdery-pink courtyards

strings of peach-coloured roses
clusters of orange-blossom and fruit

Christina Egan © 2012

Photograph: Christina Egan © 2012

You can read a German poem about a Moroccan city at In Marrakesch. The buildings and walls of Marrakesh are pink by law!

Around the turn of the year, I found it warm and sunny by day and pleasantly mild by night. In fact, people were hoping for some rain…

—

Winter sunrise in England

at the edge of the orb of the earth
a mighty web of finest twigs

painted onto leaf gold
by a master’s hand

and then the blob of molten gold
so bright that it seems to melt them too

like a favour from the heavens
like the face of a god

as if life were possible
one more day one more winter

Christina Egan © 2012

—

In northern Europe, the winter is so hard that by the beginning of spring, you may feel, even if you are not at all old, that it was the last one you reached.

In Germany, it is cold by day and by night for many months, there is snow and ice, and above all, the nights are long and the days often dull so that you may not see the face of the sun for days; in England, the cold is less bitter, but — which is worse — it reaches indoors…

Winter Views from the Bus

~ Christina Egan ~ Leave a comment

Winter Views from the Bus

*

Pink watering cans
lying flat in the drizzle,
dreaming undisturbed.

*

The yellow front door
in the long row of houses:
It stands out. It smiles.

*

The moon, veiled in mist,
floats in the darkness above
the bright white clockface.

*

Christina Egan © 2012

—

I was looking at the clocks of St Pancras Station at
King’s Cross, but you could equally observe Big Ben.

There is no ‘London fog’ any more since coal fires were
outlawed — yet there are still a lot of mist and fumes…

In northern countries, there is very little colour in winter,
so you need to look out for splinters of colour and rejoice!

First Autumn Days / Erste Herbsttage

~ Christina Egan ~ Leave a comment

First Autumn Days
(September Haiku)

*

Fiery flower,
still sucking sunshine, still scaling
the wooden fence.

*

The sky turns deep pink
above the first rusty leaves
and burning berries.

*

The moon, low and large,
a knob of solid silver
on heaven’s sceptre.

***

Erste Herbsttage

*

Feurige Blume,
noch saugst du die Sonne ein,
kletterst den Zaun hoch.

*

Tiefrosa Himmel,
erste rostrote Blätter,
brennende Beeren.

*

Der Mond, niedrig, groß,
solide Silberkugel
am Himmelszepter.

*

Christina Egan © 2015

*

Haiku have 5 + 7 + 5 syllables.
The German haiku are translated
from the English ones.

Poems about Roses, Life & Death

~ Christina Egan ~ Leave a comment

Poems about Roses, Life & Death

Vase_and_rose_02Sonnengelb

Im sonnengelben Tüllgewand
mit rosarotem Rüschenrand
schwankt sie im satten Bühnenlicht
von Gleichgewicht zu Gleichgewicht:
die königliche Tänzerin,
die Rose namens Harlekin!

Sunny Yellow

Dressed in sunny yellow gauze
hemmed with ruffs like rosy haze,
perfect poise in every pose,
in the lime-light there she sways,
dancing-girl of regal grace:
Harlequin, the motley rose!

Photograph: Christina Egan © 2013  –  Texts: Christina Egan © 2015

—

          The Giant Rose

Gdn_RoseRed_2009June

The giant rose, pale yellow, slightly flushed,
still opens and expands and grows more lush
            with every breath.
Yet its intoxicating scent deceives:
for through her delicate and ample leaves
            runs silent death.

Photograph: Christina Egan © 2009  –  Text: Christina Egan © 2013

—

Crimson silk

A cushion of crimson silk
and swelling still,

a mouth of countless lips,
of soundless words,

the red rose
stands

releasing its heavy scent
like crimson streamers, crimson streams,

until I feel it on my tongue
like ivory-coloured marzipan!

Christina Egan © 2015

—

Gelbe Rose

In Sonnengelb und Aprikose
reckt sich die prallgefüllte Rose
in ihrem reifsten Augenblick,
als eine Frau – in gelb gekleidet,
mit goldnem Haar – vorüberschreitet
mit schwebendem und festem Schritt.

Die Rose weiß noch nichts vom Welken,
entfaltet sich im hohen gelben,
vermeintlich abendlosen Licht…
Die Frau schaut lange, hält den Atem
in jenem festtagsbunten Garten,
wo ihre Jugend jetzt zerbricht.

Christina Egan © 2011

—

Sonnengelb and Sunny Yellow  are parallel creations. The flower in the vase and the flower in the painting looked exactly the same — in their striking shapes and colours as well as in size and maturity…  

Gelbe Rose (Yellow rose) compares a rose in shades of apricot and sunflower and a woman with similar clothes and blond hair. The flower, at the height of her life, does not know that age and death are about to strike; but the woman does.

You will find more roses in the sonnet Der letzte Tag des Sommers ist gekommen.