WOLHYNIEN / VOLÂNIA / VOLHYNIA

POSTED IN Roland April 7, 2022

WOLHYNIEN / VOLÂNIA / VOLHYNIA

 

Das Wort
fiel im Traum,
ich sah, wie ich mein eigenes
Grab schaufeln musste.
Die Erde war hart
gefroren mit
riesigen Kieseln,
ich hatte bald
brennende Blasen
an beiden Händen,
ich schwitzte, ich fror, ich
konnte nicht denken.
Hinter mir,
mit dem Gewehr mein Wächter,
er trieb mich
mit fremdem, deutschem Kommando,
sobald ich erlahmte.
Mitten im Krieg wars
im Traum,
ich trug einen schütteren Bart,
graue Schläfenlocken,
stand schräg
im zerschlissenen Kittel.
Ich grub und konnte nicht
fertig werden.

ROLAND ERB

………….

VOLÂNIA

Cuvantul
a cazut in vis
M-am văzut cum
trebuia sa-mi sap propriul mormânt.
Pământul era inghetat,
tare, cu
pietricele imense,
am avut in curand
bășici arzătoare
la palmele amandoua,
transpiram, înghețam,
nu puteam gândi.
În spatele meu,
gardianul cu pusca lui,
ma impingea
cu o comandă străină, germană,
de îndată ce ma inmuiam.
Era în mijlocul războiului,
într-un vis,
purtam o barbă rara,
perciuni cenusii,
stăteam aplecat,
într-o salopeta zdrențuită.
Săpam și nu puteam
termina.

…………….

VOLHYNIA

The word
fell in a dream,
I saw how
I had to dig
my own grave.
The ground was frozen
hard with
huge pebbles,
I had soon
burning blisters
on both hands,
I was sweating, I was freezing, I
couldn’t think.
Behind me,
my guard with his gun ,
he drove me
with foreign, German commands,
as soon as I got tired.
It was in the middle of the war
in a dream
I wore a thinning beard
gray side-locks,
stood askew
in a tattered overall.
I was digging and I couldn’t
finish.

trad. M. M. Biela