August, 2021
IN DER KINDHEIT / IN CHILDHOOD / ÎN COPILĂRIE
POSTED IN Roland, translated German-English August 26, 2021
IN DER KINDHEIT / IN CHILDHOOD / ÎN COPILĂRIE
Erde,
ich lag mit den Händen
an dich geklammert,
presste mich ins verdorrte Unkraut
und hatte ein Nest in
deiner Mulde
aus Trümmersteinen und Gras.
Als der Sturm über dich fort blies,
spürte ich große Stille
an dir,
die senkte sich ein und wuchs
und blieb in mir,
als die Mulde schließlich zu flach war
und der Taifun mich erfasste.
Roland Erb
——————————–
IN CHILDHOOD
Earth,
I lay with my hands
clinging on to you,
pressed myself into the withered weeds
and had a nest in
in your hollow
of rubble stones and grass.
When the storm blew over you
I felt a great stillness
on you,
that sank in and grew
and remained in me,
when at last the hollow was too shallow
and the typhoon took hold of me.
………………………….ÎN COPILĂRIE
Pământ,
Mă întind cu mâinile mele
agățându-mă de tine,
m-am presat în buruienile uscate
și am avut un cuib în
în golul tău
de moloz și iarbă.
Când furtuna s-a abătut peste tine
Am simțit o mare liniște
in tine,
s-a potolit și a crescut
și a rămas în mine,
când golul era în sfârșit prea superficial
iar taifunul m-a lovit.Translation, Maria Magdalena Biela
ABBRUCH / DROPOUT / RENUNTARE
POSTED IN Roland, translated German-English August 26, 2021
I was translating this poem, on the morning of the 12.08.2021 when I received the fatal news that my father had died . Now, reading it once more, I understand this poem in a completely different light.ABBRUCH / DROPOUT / RENUNTARE
Die Singstimme
schwankte, schien zu
brechen,
langsam,
senkte sich
nieder,
Körper embryonal,
wie leblos,
die Farben, die Töne
grau.ROLAND ERB
………………………………
DROPOUT
The singing voice
wavered, seemed to
break,
slowly,
lowered
itself
Body embryonic,
as if lifeless
the colors, the tones
grey.……………………………..
RENUNTARE
Vocea cântătoare
se clătina, părea să se
rupa,
încet,
se cobori
Corpul embrionar,
parca lipsit de viață
culorile, tonurile
Gri.
Translation, Maria Magdalena Biela
IN MEMORIAM
POSTED IN contemporary poetry August 15, 2021
On 12.08.2021, my whole world stopped at 7.15 a.m. My Father, GRIGORE NASTASE, left this life for a better one…may HE rest in peace…Today took place his funerals……………………………………………In amintirea tatalui meu, un om bun, un tata cu suflet larg cat lumea lui Dumnezeu: GRIGORE NASTASE, plecat din asta viata in ziua de 12.08.2021, orele 7.15 a.m.De voi, ca si de viatam-am despartit nevrand.Ganditi-va la minemacar din cand in cand.…………………………………………..Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone
Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood;
For nothing now can ever come to any good.W H Auden
