"Maybe one day, by accident or poetry, you like to stay?" - Chico Buarque.


Caetano Veloso Tonada de Luna llena

Saturday, September 27, 2014

Herbstinspiration


Herbst
Zeit der Besinnung
Ruhe
 
"Herbstsonne und Bäume"
Egon Schiele




Nebelmeer
lädt ein
zur Rückkehr nach innen
Kraft tanken
 
die Gedanken durchwehen lassen
vom Wind
 
Klarheit finden
für den Frühling
 




 
 

gebeugt
vom Leben
doch nicht entwurzelt
 
entblättert
vom Herbst
doch nicht tot
"kleiner Baum im Spätherbst"
Egon Schiele
 
ergraut
in der Dämmerung
doch nie ohne Hoffnung
 
denn
die Wurzeln des Lebens
die Hoffnung
der Wille
sind noch fest
tragen den Baum
auch
durch diesen Winter
 
 



 
"Blatt im Wind"

 
Blatt im Wind
 
tanzen
fliegen
 
Höhepunkt
eines kurzen Lebens
 
5 Sekunden lang
 




 
 
Risse in meiner Seele
härten
die Schale

tief unten
das Meer
meiner selbst

bedeckt
von der Erde
der Erfahrungen
"Herbstbaum im Wind"
Egon Schiele
 
doch immer wieder
finden meine Gedanken
ein Boot
 
immer öfter
segle ich auf meinem Meer
nach vorne

in die Zukunft

zu mir




Saturday, June 14, 2014

'Happy 'Birth' Day'


painful Day's - unfulfilled Imagination



Shaving



The sharper the blade
the younger
I look in the mirror

How sharp
must the edge be
that makes me really young?



by Erich Fried



Sunday, March 9, 2014

The Me Bird


The Me Bird - Pablo Neruda


Inspirée d’un très beau poème de Pablo Neruda, ce film « The Me Bird » est une superbe création en stop-motion basée sur la technique du pochoir. Une inspiration artistique magnifique réalisée par le studio brésilien 18bis.








The Me Bird



I am the Pablo Bird,

bird of a single feather,

a flier in the clear shadow

and obscure clarity,

my wings are unseen,

my ears resound

when I walk among the trees

or beneath the tombstones

like an unlucky umbrella

or a naked sword,

stretched like a bow

or round like a grape,

I fly on and on not knowing,

wounded in the dark night,

who is waiting for me,

who does not want my song,

who desires my death,

who will not know I'm arriving

and will not come to subdue me,

to bleed me, to twist me,

or to kiss my clothes,

torn by the shrieking wind.



That's why I come and go,

fly and don't fly but sing:

I am the furious bird

of the calm storm.



-  Pablo Neruda


Thursday, March 6, 2014

A Jew to Zionist Fighters


What do you actually
want?
Do you really want to
outdo
those who trod you
down
a generation ago
into your own blood
and into your own
excrement
Do you want to pass on
the old torture
to others now
in all its bloody and
dirty detail
with all the brutal
delight of torturers
as suffered by your
fathers?
Do you really want to
be the new Gestapo
the new Wehrmacht
the new SA and SS
and turn the
Palestinians
into the new Jews?
Well then I too want,
having fifty years ago
myself been tormented
for being a Jew boy
by your tormentors,
to be a new Jew with
these new Jews
you are making of the
Palestinians
And I want to help lead
them as a free people
into their own land of
Palestine
from whence you have
driven them or in which
you apprentices of the
Swastika
you fools and
changelings of history
whose Star of David on
your flags
turns every quicker
into that damned
symbol with its four
feet
that you just do not
want to see
but whose path you are
following today

         1988

         Erich Fried



Wednesday, March 5, 2014

Toy on Target


'Crucifixion with darkened sun' - Egon Schiele

1
Dropping
toys
instead of bombs
for the Festival of the
Children
that
said the market
researchers
will doubtlessly
make an impression
It has made
a great
impression
on the whole world


2
If the aeroplane
had dropped the toys
a fortnight ago
and only now the
bombs
my two children
thanks to your kindness
would have had
something to play with
for those two weeks


(On the day of the Vietnamese "Festival of the Children" US bombers dropped toys, even on villages where shortly before children had been killed by their bombs)


Thank you to Roland Rance for sending this poem.

Erich Fried


Thursday, February 27, 2014

Sozusagen ein Mailied

Mascha Kaléko

Mascha Kaléko

Sozusagen ein Mailied (1938)


Manchmal, mitten in jenen Nächten,
Die ein jeglicher von uns kennt,
Wartend auf den Schlaf des Gerechten,
Wie man ihn seltsamerweise nennt,
Denke ich an den Rhein und die Elbe,
Und kleiner, aber meiner, die Spree.
Und immer wieder ist es das selbe:
Das Denken tut verteufelt weh.

Manchmal, mitten im freien Manhattan,
Unterwegs auf der Jagd nach dem Glück,
Hör ich auf einmal das Rasseln von Ketten.
Und das bringt mich wieder auf Preussen zurück.
Ob dort die Vögel zu singen wagen?
Gibts das noch: Werder im Blütenschnee . . .
Wie mag die Havel das alles ertragen,
Und was sagt der alte Grunewaldsee?

Manchmal, angesichts neuer Bekanntschaft,
Mit üppiger Flora, - glad to see -
Sehnt sichs in mir nach magerer Landschaft,
Sandiger Kiefer, weiss nicht wie.
Was wissen Primeln und Geranien
Von Rassenkunde und Medizin . . .
Ob Ecke Uhland die Kastanien
Wohl  blühn?

Mascha Kaléko
Im Exil


Undine geht

Ingeborg Bachmann


 Undine geht: Problemaufriss



"Ihr Menschen! Ihr Ungeheuer!

Ihr Ungeheuer mit dem Namen Hans! Mit diesem Namen,

den ich nie vergessen kann. 


Immer wenn ich durch die Lichtung kam, und die Zweige sich öffneten, wenn die Ruten mir das Wasser von den Armen schlugen die Blätter mir die Tropfen von den Haaren leckten, traf ich auf einen der Hans hiess.

Ja, diese Logik habe ich gelernt, dass einer Hans heissen muss, dass ihr alle so heisst, einer wie der andere aber doch nur einer. Immer einer ist es, der diesen Namen trägt, den ich nicht vergessen kann.

Und wenn ich Euch alle vergesse, ganz und gar vergesse, wie ich Euch ganz geliebt habe.

Und wenn Eure Küsse und Eurer Samen von den vielen grossen Wassern, Regen, Flüssen, Meeren längst abgewaschen und fortgeschwemmt sind, dann ist doch der Name noch da, der sich fortpflanzt unter Wasser, weil ich nicht aufhören kann ihn zu rufen, Hans, Hans ....."


Monday, February 24, 2014

Perhaps


The Girl from the Fog


Perhaps


Remembering
that is
perhaps
the most painful way
of forgetting
and perhaps
the kindest way
of easing
this pain


Erich Fried


An Attempt


Dima


An  Attempt


I have attempted
- while working -
to try
thinking of my work
and not of you
 
 
And I am happy
that the attempt
did not succeed.


Erich Fried


Cancellation




Cancellation



Being able to breathe
out
one's unhappiness

breathe out deeply
so that one can
breathe in again

And perhaps also being
able to speak
one's unhappiness
in words
in real words
which are coherent
and make sense
and which one can
understand oneself

and which perhaps
someone else can
understand
or could understand

And being able to cry

That again would
almost be
happiness


Erich Fried


Friday, February 21, 2014

Nicht alle Schmerzen sind heilbar


Nicht alle Schmerzen sind heilbar, denn manche schleichen
Sich tiefer und tiefer ins Herz hinein,
Und während Tage und Jahre verstreichen,
Werden sie Stein.

Du sprichst und lachst, wie wenn nichts wäre,
Sie scheinen zerronnen wie Schaum.
Doch du spürst ihre lastende Schwere
Bis in den Traum.

Der Frühling kommt wieder mit Wärme und Helle,
Die Welt wird ein Blütenmeer.
Aber in meinem Herzen ist eine Stelle,
Da blüht nichts mehr.
Ricarda Huch




Ein Lächeln vielleicht


Meine Beine können nicht laufen, sie liegen ganz still.
Meine Hände nicht greifen, auch nicht wenn ich will.
Meinen Kopf kann ich nicht halten, die Stütze hält ihn für mich.
Doch meine Augen können sehen, sie sehen auch dich.

Ich frage mich, was du im Augenblick denkst,
ob du weg schaust, oder ein Lächeln mir schenkst.
Bleibst du jetzt stumm, oder sprichst du mit mir?
Ich unterhalte mich gerne, auch mit dir.

Wenn ich dann spüre, dass du mich magst
und nicht nach meiner Behinderung fragst,
bekommt auch mein Leben einen Sinn,
es fällt mir leichter, dass behindert ich bin.


Björn Stommel, 24 Jahre, Rollstuhlfahrer
aus seinem Buch: 'Ein Lächeln vielleicht'



Welke Blätter




Plötzlich hallt mein
Schritt nicht mehr,
sondern rauscht leise,
leise
wie die tränenvolle
Weise,
die ich sing', vor
Sehnsucht schwer.
Unter meinen müden
Beinen,
die ich hebe wie im
Traum,
liegen tot und voll von
Weinen
Blätter von dem grossen
Baum.


(Selma Meerbaum-Eisinger mit 15 Jahren....
3 Jahre bevor sie im SS-Arbeitslager Michailowska starb)


Art: Egon Schiele 4 Bäume


Saturday, February 15, 2014

Mein schönstes Gedicht






Mein schönstes Gedicht?

Ich schrieb es nicht.

Aus tiefsten Tiefen stieg es.

Ich schwieg es.


Mascha Kaléko







Friday, February 14, 2014

Emptiness



The Sign and Emptiness

If emptiness is empty
How can something be borne or awaken from it

If there is something beyond
Where does it sleep, through what does it move

If emptiness is endless
Then everything rests in emptiness

If the Sign awakens
Then from emptiness it looks at emptiness

A Beam and a Sign

A ray of light is a smile of emptiness
How lonely she is without it

Smiling emptiness—
An awakening sign

A sign waits for emptiness
And quietly lurks while waiting

The Light-Bearer Sign

The Ray-Sign angers the darkness
She was content, indeed calm before the Sign,
In absolute peace

The Ray is the first destroyer—
A Devil to the darkness

The Light-Bearer brings chaos
Into her blessed peace

The Sign Conquers the Darkness

The Supreme Sign gazes into darkness
From darkness

Invisible
He is not the light-ray

Darkness is angry
He is her closest keen

Darkness yields in the end
Giving in to the Supreme Sign

From the game, the world was Born
Darkness is the mother,
The father is the Sign

Sign and Darkness

When he gets outside himself
He becomes a beam of light
Moving into darkness

His love is equal
To the immeasurable depth of darkness

Hi is the lover of darkness
A free beam in the bed of night

Supreme Sign Sight

Sign is a light
And a gravity force

Dispersed
He never betrayed himself

He arrives
Where a ray cannot even peek


***

from the Book: "The Sign and Its Children"
by Serbian Poet Dejan Stojanović.


***

I share what comes [out] from me, or speaks to me.



Thursday, February 13, 2014

Thinking Like a Butterfly



Thinking Like a Butterfly by Mark Nepo Accompanied by Van Morrison's "Philosopher's Stone".


Thinking Like a Butterfly

by Mark Nepo

Monday I was told I was good.
I felt relieved.
Tuesday I was ignored.
I felt invisible.
Wednesday I was snapped at.
I began to doubt myself.
On Thursday I was rejected.
Now I was afraid.
On Saturday I was thanked
for being me. My soul relaxed.
On Sunday I was left alone
till the part of me that can’t
be influenced grew tired of
submitting and resisting.
Monday I was told I was good.
By Tuesday I got off the wheel.


Sunday, February 9, 2014

Gracias a la Vida / Thanks to Life


Violeta Parra and the song - Gracias a la Vida / Thanks to life



Violeta Parra and the song "Thanks to Life" © by Madalena Lobao Tello



LYRIC : Thanks to life

( Violeta Parra)

Thanks to life, which has given me so much
It has given me two eyes, and when I open them

I clearly distinguish black from white
And in the high sky, its starry depths,
And from the crowds, the man that I love.

Thanks to life, which has given me so much
It has given me hearing, which in all its breadth
Day and night records crickets and canaries,
Hammers, turbines, barking, dark clouds,
And the tender voice of my beloved one.

Thanks to life, which has given me so much
It has given me sound and the alphabet
And with it the words to think and speak
Mother, friend, brother, and the light that brightens
The path of the soul of my loved one.

Thanks to life, which has given me so much
It has kept my tired feet walking
With them I walked through cities and puddles,
Beaches and deserts, mountains and plains
And your house, your street and your courtyard.

Thanks to life, which has given me so much
It gave me my heart, which shakes its frame
When I look at the fruit of the human brain
When I look at good ones so far from bad ones
When I look at the bottom of your light-color eyes.

Thanks to life, which has given me so much
It has given me laughter and it has given me tears
Thus I distinguish between joy and pain,
They are all elements of my song and of all your songs,
which is the same song and of everyone's song,
which is my own song.

***

and
which is also my song ..... :)) ♥ ((:
and my new T-Shirt by Madalena with her beautiful artwork .... :)) ♥ ((:


Saturday, February 8, 2014

Truth


Tranh Phật
Nguyen Minh Phuoc , Viet Nam

Buddhist paintings
Nguyen Minh Phuoc , Vietnam


If you look for the truth outside yourself,
It gets farther and farther away.
Today walking alone, I meet it everywhere I step.
It is the same as me, yet I am not it.
Only if you understand it in this way
Will you merge with the way things are.

~ Tung-Shan ~


Thursday, February 6, 2014

Protection


Aradhna Amrit Vani


We waste so much energy trying to cover up who we are
When beneath every attitude is the want to be loved
And beneath every anger is a wound to be healed
And beneath every sadness is the fear that there will not be enough time
When we hesitate in being direct we unknowingly slip something on, some added layer of protection
That keeps us from feeling the world
And often that thin covering is the be
ginning of a loneliness
Which if not put down diminishes our chances for joy
It’s like wearing gloves every time we touch something
And then forgetting we chose to put them on
We complain that nothing feels quite real
In this way our challenge each day is not to get dressed to face the world
But to unglove ourselves
So that the doorknob feels cold
And the car handle feels wet
And the kiss good-bye feels like the lips of another being
Soft and unrepeatable

~ Mark Nepo


Wanderer



Wanderer, your footsteps are the road, and nothing more; wanderer, there is no road, the road is made by walking. By walking one makes the road, and upon glancing behind one sees the path that never will be trod again. Wanderer, there is no road-- Only wakes upon the sea.

― Antonio Machado, Campos de Castilla


Wednesday, February 5, 2014

Outstretched


'House with red windows'  2013
Paul Ozhgibesov


And through my arm outstretched to the stars
A snail of eternity crawls.
Blessed is a dragonfly, scared by a storm
When it hides on the underside
Of a leaf…


Velimir Khlebnikov
(translated by Victor Kozyrev)



Sunday, February 2, 2014

Anwesenheit


***

Ich habe uns Tee gemacht
und stelle Stövchen,
Zuckerdose,
Löffel
und zwei Schalen
auf den Tisch -


und dann erst fällt mir ein,
dass Du gegangen bist,
so sehr bist Du
bei mir geblieben.



Things


***


Don't live life thinking about the past;

live life for the future.

If you concentrate too hard on things that happened in the past,

you will miss the good things in the future.