Marcel Diel, Three Poems

[My translations of contemporary German poet Marcel Diel b. 1975; also editor of online Kritische Ausgabe – Zeitschrift für Germanistik und Literatur; first poetry collection 2001. I took the shot above in Coogee, a beachside Sydney suburb, loving the ambivalent statement someone was making to the world.]

ebernhahn I: location/definition

from the slope on valley-wards flowing the place spreads unsymme
trically the centre at the northern end all around in fields
the gruff sky is stretched and surges over
the high hills into unbuilt farm land issue
hungry clay pits crash and rise
on dumps out and drowns
in grim air till again up to
the forest edge leaves
distance leaves
depth – and
crossings
pointing
to
history

people can do that

just disappear
suddenly just not
be there gone
be away without
a redirection order
gone snailmail-free
flatten their house blow away
the tracks in the dust
lock up without
looking back and
be gone no longer
to be reached become
friends with forgetting
go smiling or
sad with a sparkling
look the eyes open
very wide and quietly
very quietly intimate
that this one meeting
for a while or for ever
was the last
turn around and go and
not be there anymore the
unspoken long carried
lie-awake one word
now just not say
out of spite or derision
just keep and
take with them and leave
no imprint and no attempt
at an echo there
just go turn around and
go and be gone be away
for a short while or ever that
only humans can do

chain yourself you should
to the world so that you not
just as simply just as sudden
ly no longer

into the cafes lost through heat

fleeing people I’m looking for
the boondocks tree shade
church tower shade
high knelling brickwork roaring
noise and colour at early
evening through green-yellow roofs
at kaiserplatz beside the memorial
dispersed doves picking the people
the timelessly beautiful townspeople

election posters the heralds of the future
boom times coming again
growth coming again
autumn coming again
I change colour I change
perspective appearance I
am a tree I give
shade I am an umbrella
I protect from the sun I am
the bench the table take a seat

the people are cool as air
moving as wind right through
me they move me
must I get up must go on
I shall return
I shall not return
bells block up the silence
do they satisfy

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~ by Peter Lach-Newinsky on September 28, 2012.

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