Thursday, February 29, 2024

Wednesday, February 28, 2024

Harbinger

Harbingers of spring.
Unfortunately none of peace.

 

Saturday, February 24, 2024

Relats conjunts de febrer: Madonna del Magníficat

Sandro Botticelli, 1481, Madonna del Magnificat


I make it short. ;-)

"For the sake of the book. Get the godlike out of my sight!"

Friday, February 23, 2024

Thursday, February 08, 2024

Komm, großer schwarzer Vogel!




Ludwig Hirsch (28 Februar 1946 – 24 November 2011)

Komm großer schwarzer Vogel, komm jetzt!
Schau, das Fenster ist weit offen,
schau, i hab Dir Zucker aufs Fensterbrett g'strat.
Komm großer schwarzer Vogel, komm zu mir!
Spann' Deine weiten, sanften Flügel aus
und leg s' auf meine Fieberaugen!
Bitte, hol mi weg von da!
Und dann fliegen wir auf,
mitten in'n Himmel,
in a neuche Zeit, in a neuche Welt,
und i werd' singen, i werd' lachen,
ich werd' "es gibt's net" schrei'n,
weil i werd' auf einmal kapier'n,
worum sich alles dreht.


Komm großer schwarzer Vogel, hilf mir doch!
Preß' Deinen feuchten, kalten Schnabel
auf meine wunde, auf meine heiße Stirn!
Komm großer schwarzer Vogel,
jetzt wär's grad günstig!
Die anderen da im Zimmer schlafen fest
aber ganz leise san,
dann hört uns die Schwester net!

Bitte, hol mich weg von da!
Und dann fliegen wir auf,
mitten in'n Himmel,
in a neuche Zeit, in a neuche Welt,
und i werd' singen, i werd' lachen,
und i werd' "das gibt's net" schrei'n,
weil i werd' auf einmal kapier'n,
worum sich alles alles dreht.

Ja? Großer schwarzer Vogel? Endlich!
I hab' Dich gar nicht einikommen g'hört,
wie lautlos Du fliegst,
mein Gott, wie schön Du bist!
Auf geht's, großer schwarzer Vogel, auf geht's!
Bye bye, meine Lieben daham!
Du, mein Mäderl, Mama, Papa!
Bitte, vergeßt's mi net!
Auf geht's, mitten in'n Himmel,
net traurig sein, mm mm!
's ist kein Grund zum Traurigsein!
Weil i werd' singen, i werd' lachen,
i werd' "es gibt's net" schrei'n,
i werd' endlich kapier'n,
i werd' glücklich sein!

Ja, I werd' singen, und i werd' lachen,

und i werd' "Es gibt's net!" schrei'n,
i werd' endlich kapier'n,
i werd' endlich glücklich sein!

And here's a both quick and humble first attempt to translate from the Austrian. Suggestions for improvement are welcome.

Well, you will understand, anyway.


Come, big black bird, come now!
Look, the window is wide open,
look, I've spread sugar on the sill for you.
Come, big black bird, come to me!
Span your wide gentle wings,

and put them on my fevereyes!

Please, get me away from here!
And then we fly up
right into the middle of heaven,

into a new time, into a new world,
and I'll sing, I'll laugh,
I'll scream "Es gibt's net!"*
,
'cause all of a sudden I'll get
what all is about.


Come, big black bird, so help me, please!
Put your wet cold beak
on my sore, on my hot brow!
Come, big black bird,

now there's the opportunity!
The others in the room are sleeping deeply,
but let's be very quiet,
so that the nurse won't hear us.

Please, get me away from here!
And then we fly up
right into the middle of heaven,
into a new time, into a new world,
and I'll sing, I'll laugh,
and I'll scream "Es gibt's net"*,

'cause all of a sudden I'll get
what all is about.

Yes? Big black bird? At last!
I didn't hear you come in,

how soundless you fly –
my God, how beautiful you are! 

C'mon, big black bird, c'mon!
Bye bye, my dear one's at home.
You, my girl, ... Mama ... Papa.
Please, don't forget me!

C'mon, into the middle of heaven.
[Ah] Don't be sad ... mm mm [no no no];
There's no reason for sadness,

'cause I'll sing, I'll laugh,
I'll scream "Es gibt's net!",
I shall at last understand,
I'll be happy.

Yes, I'll sing, and I'll laugh,
and I'll scream "Es gibt`s net",

At last I'll understand,
At last I'll ... be happy.

Sunday, February 04, 2024

Beers & Books CCCLVI – Sansibar oder der letzte Grund

Sansibar oder der letzte Grund
(Zanzibar or the last reason)
*
in English published as "Flight to Afar"

Alfred Andersch (4 February 1914 – 21 February 1980)  

Thursday, February 01, 2024

Laughing Lhursday* – Pitch 'n' Putt

As tomorrow James Joyce will – not would! – celebrate his 142nd birthday, and as today is Laughing Lhursday, I think it is about time to once again post this glorious encounter of him and Samuel Beckett.



 James Joyce (2 February 1882 – 13 January 1941)

Samuel Beckett (13 April 1906 – 22 December 1989)


* [For first time visitors]:
Typo in the title?
Nah.
It's just that I would not let a tiny T spoil an avantgardistic alliteration.