geh aus mein herz

geh aus mein herz

die braunen bauklotzhäuser
mit farbenkastentüren
die weißen blütenkelche
die sich versonnen rühren

im wind aus samt und seide
die schweren purpurrosen
in Salomonis kleide
die deine finger kosen…

der sommer will dich füllen
die erde lädt dich ein
zu laufen und zu schaffen
zu schauen und zu
sein

Christina Egan © 2011


Salomonis Seide

In Purpur zog der Kaiser einst,
in Scharlachrot der Kardinal,
in Violett die Kaiserin
in einen grüngeschmückten Saal.

So prunken die Geranien
in ihrer Sommerprozession
und rufen in das Gartenrund:
“Wir übertrumpfen Salomon!”

Christina Egan © 2014


The appeal ‘Go out and seek joy’ and the metaphor of King Solomon’s silk are taken from the jubilant hymn and folksong Geh aus, mein Herz, und suche Freud, written by Paul Gerhardt in the middle of the 17th century.

The houses in uniform dull colours with front doors in different bright colours are typical for London. So are the little private gardens with geraniums.

The first poem is contemplative and intense, the second one humorous and light. The last line of the first poem is cut up on purpose: to let the word ‘to be’ resound on its own.


For an English poem about the pageant of summer see Lilac and Lime.

 

Advertisements

Hochsommerhimmel

Hochsommerhimmel

Himmel, wolkenlos
schon am Morgen. Schwalbenflug
bestickt das Hellblau.

*

Himmel, weich und warm
über Mittag. Seidentuch,
endlich einfach blau!

*

Himmel, licht und sanft
noch am Abend. Holzspanduft
umwebt die Rosen.

Christina Egan © 2015

Word Weaver

Word Weaver

More purple clouds than I can count
or weigh or paint for you
or snatch and send them underground
with some surrounding blue…

To one whose windows do not stretch
to spy the heaving sky,
I’ll weave my syllables to fetch
the purple passing by.

To one whose dusk and marble moon
are filtered through a rail,
I must thread silver on my loom
to leave a shiny trail.

I must request the best black silk
to mark the balmy dark…
By day I’ll stitch a roaring quilt
to catch the city’s heart!

Christina Egan © 2016

Drawing of the mechanics of a loom (yarn on rolls, without the frame)The poet describes the world to a prisoner who can barely see the majestic ever-changing sky and the bright busy city surrounding them. The sound and rhythm of the lines emulate the warp and weft of life, so that the words reflect the world — read the poem aloud and you will see!

The other person may be imprisoned by a totalitarian state or indeed by a democratic state, or locked up by their employers or indeed their own family, behind walls and perhaps under a garment. There are many millions of human beings who de facto are prisoners or slaves without being called so.

For poems about time (for instance ensuing generations) and space (for instance a big city) as a tissue, see my post Geflecht / Geflechte. All of civilisation and all of humanity is one web.