For the past few weeks I\u2019ve been trying to re-activate my German, this by way of preparing for a trip to Innsbruck. One fruit has been this self-translation of an old poem, the founding experience of which dates from forty years ago when I was especially sensitive, indeed vulnerable to the \u201cphenomenology of love\u201d. A friend helped with some syntactical and lexicological issues. Below the poem and after its source is an index of the poems and texts I have written in German, usually in the weeks following prior visits to Innsbruck, Vienna or Berlin.<\/i><\/p>\n
Ein Z\u00fcndholz,
\ndessen Flamme
\ngesch\u00fctzt vor Sorge
\nin den hohlgemachten
\nH\u00e4nden unserer
\nunheimlichen
\nUmarmung,
\nmachen wir
\ndie Mauern
\nmit unserem Gefl\u00fcster
\nflackern.<\/p>\n
After My Own English<\/b><\/p>\n
A match
\nwhose flare
\nis closed from fear
\nin the cupped hands
\nof our uncanny
\nholding, we make
\nthe walls flicker
\nwith our whispers.<\/i><\/p>\n
***<\/p>\n
INDEX OF WRITING IN GERMAN<\/p>\n
Fahrplan<\/a><\/strong> For the past few weeks I\u2019ve been trying to re-activate my German, this by way of preparing for a trip to Innsbruck. One fruit has been this self-translation of an old poem, the founding experience of which dates from forty years ago when I was especially sensitive, indeed vulnerable to the \u201cphenomenology of love\u201d. A … <\/p>\n
\n Zeitverschiebung in Berlin<\/a><\/strong>
\n Der Respekt<\/a><\/strong>
\n Wie L\u00e4nder<\/a><\/strong>
\n Drahtseilk\u00fcnstler<\/a><\/strong>
\n Zwei Texte auf Deutsch<\/a><\/strong><\/p>\n