Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
Tags
#henchmen
Der Abschied (“The Parting”) by Bertolt Brecht loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch We embrace; my fingers trace rich cloth while yours encounter only moth- eaten fabric. A quick hug: you were invited to the gay soiree while the minions of the "law" relentlessly pursue me. We talk about the weather and our eternal friendship's magic. Anything else would be too bitter, too tragic. German text: Der Abschied Wir umarmen uns. Ich fasse reichen Stoff Du fassest armen. Die Umarmung ist schnell Du gehst zu einem Mahl Hinter mir sind die Schergen. Wir sprechen vom Wetter und von unserer Dauernden Freundschaft. Alles andere Wäre zu bitter. Published by Poetry on Demand, The HyperTexts and Ghani Project Keywords/Tags: Bertolt Brecht, German, translation, parting, farewell, **** law, minions, henchmen, thugs, pursuit, chase, embrace, hug, rich, cloth, threadbare, soiree, dinner, meal, event, eternal, friendship, bitter, weather, exile Bertolt Brecht Epigrams and Quotations These are my modern English translations of epigrams and quotations by Bertolt Brecht. Everyone chases the way happiness feels, unaware how it nips at their heels. — loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch The world of learning takes a crazy turn when teachers are taught to discern! — loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch Unhappy, the land that lacks heroes. — loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch Hungry man, reach for the book: it's a hook, a harpoon. — loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch Because things are the way they are, things can never stay as they were. — loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch War is like love; true ... it finds a way through. — loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch What happens to the hole when the cheese is no longer whole? — loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch It is easier to rob by setting up a bank than by threatening the poor clerk. — loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch Do not fear death so much, or strife, but rather fear the inadequate life. — loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch Keywords/Tags: Bertolt Brecht, translation, translations, German,  modern English, epigram, epigrams, quote, quotes, quotations HERMANN HESSE This is my modern English translation of the poem "Stages" by the great German poet Hermann Hesse from his novel "The Glass Bead Game." Stages by Hermann Hesse from his novel "The Glass Bead Game" loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch As every flower wilts and every youth must wilt and exit life from a curtained stage, so every virtue—even our truest truth— blooms some brief time and cannot last forever. Since life may summons death at any age we must prepare for death’s obscene endeavor, meet our end with courage and without remorse, forego regret and hopes of some reprieve, embrace death’s end, as life’s required divorce, some new beginning, calling us to live. Thus let us move, serene, beyond our fear, and let no sentiments detain us here. The Universal Spirit would not chain us, but elevates us slowly, stage by stage. If we demand a halt, our fears restrain us, caught in the webs of creaturely defense. We must prepare for imminent departure or else be bound by foolish “permanence.” Death’s hour may be our swift deliverance, from which we speed to fresher, newer spaces, and Life may summons us to bolder races. So be it, heart! Farewell, and adieu, then! Keywords/Tags: Hermann Hesse, translation, German, English, life, death, stage, stages, truth, flower, wilt, youth, flower, blooms, time, age, courage, hope, hopes, fear, spirit, god, space, spaces, heart, farewell
0
Mar 10, 2020
Mar 10, 2020 at 12:31 AM UTC
michael-r-burch
Bertolt Brecht "The Parting" translation
Der Abschied (“The Parting”) by Bertolt Brecht loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch We embrace; my fingers trace rich cloth while yours encounter only moth- eaten fabric. A quick hug: you were invited to the gay soiree while the minions of the "law" relentlessly pursue me. We talk about the weather and our eternal friendship's magic. Anything else would be too bitter, too tragic. German text: Der Abschied Wir umarmen uns. Ich fasse reichen Stoff Du fassest armen. Die Umarmung ist schnell Du gehst zu einem Mahl Hinter mir sind die Schergen. Wir sprechen vom Wetter und von unserer Dauernden Freundschaft. Alles andere Wäre zu bitter. Published by Poetry on Demand, The HyperTexts and Ghani Project Keywords/Tags: Bertolt Brecht, German, translation, parting, farewell, **** law, minions, henchmen, thugs, pursuit, chase, embrace, hug, rich, cloth, threadbare, soiree, dinner, meal, event, eternal, friendship, bitter, weather, exile Bertolt Brecht Epigrams and Quotations These are my modern English translations of epigrams and quotations by Bertolt Brecht. Everyone chases the way happiness feels, unaware how it nips at their heels. — loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch The world of learning takes a crazy turn when teachers are taught to discern! — loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch Unhappy, the land that lacks heroes. — loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch Hungry man, reach for the book: it's a hook, a harpoon. — loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch Because things are the way they are, things can never stay as they were. — loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch War is like love; true ... it finds a way through. — loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch What happens to the hole when the cheese is no longer whole? — loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch It is easier to rob by setting up a bank than by threatening the poor clerk. — loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch Do not fear death so much, or strife, but rather fear the inadequate life. — loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch Keywords/Tags: Bertolt Brecht, translation, translations, German,  modern English, epigram, epigrams, quote, quotes, quotations HERMANN HESSE This is my modern English translation of the poem "Stages" by the great German poet Hermann Hesse from his novel "The Glass Bead Game." Stages by Hermann Hesse from his novel "The Glass Bead Game" loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch As every flower wilts and every youth must wilt and exit life from a curtained stage, so every virtue—even our truest truth— blooms some brief time and cannot last forever. Since life may summons death at any age we must prepare for death’s obscene endeavor, meet our end with courage and without remorse, forego regret and hopes of some reprieve, embrace death’s end, as life’s required divorce, some new beginning, calling us to live. Thus let us move, serene, beyond our fear, and let no sentiments detain us here. The Universal Spirit would not chain us, but elevates us slowly, stage by stage. If we demand a halt, our fears restrain us, caught in the webs of creaturely defense. We must prepare for imminent departure or else be bound by foolish “permanence.” Death’s hour may be our swift deliverance, from which we speed to fresher, newer spaces, and Life may summons us to bolder races. So be it, heart! Farewell, and adieu, then! Keywords/Tags: Hermann Hesse, translation, German, English, life, death, stage, stages, truth, flower, wilt, youth, flower, blooms, time, age, courage, hope, hopes, fear, spirit, god, space, spaces, heart, farewell
Continue reading...
87
Gray flesh sown and stitched to blue flesh Staples reflect the silvery moonlight The professor scurries about like a crab around the massive human-like Creature on the cold metal slab The monster isn't alive, not yet anyway The professor is hurrying now To make sure everything is perfect before the time comes Wires and cables run from the monsters flesh to an assortment of Machines that whirl and flash with color The machines look like monsters themselves, far more scary then the one on the operating table... The professor, my master, says that this HAS to work... I do not doubt my masters genius But I fear the monster I helped him build From bodies we stole from the morgue where the professor works He says that if it works he will make more I do not understand how the machines, lighting and moonlight and all that complicated things work My mind is too simple for such things I simply serve my master and do what he asks The monster will be my masters greatest achievement The greatest achievement science has ever seen! I know I won't be remembered, my role is too simple for that It will not be written down how I cut up those smelly corpses And sown the dead flesh together to make something new It will not be written how cold it is to sleep on the uneven castle floor With no more then straw and a moth eaten blanket for warmth No, it will not be written down that I was the one to pull the switch No, I will not be remembered but the monster will be The monster my master would not have been able to create without me Me, his faithful servant Me, his pitiful slave Me, the sower of flesh and assistant of a mad man A crazed genius, with skin as white as paper And cold as ice, how my masters eyes almost glow as the time draws near There is not trace of fear on my masters white face With a wild grin that reveals his crooked tombstone like teeth He commands me to do what all the others before me were born to do I reach out my green/grayish hand and... Obey... I pull the black cold lever with the red *** on top The artificial lighting flashes! The moonlight quivers! The machines scream as if alive, as if in pain! The monster writhes and convulses with life Suddenly as if someone had turned a switch everything dies The machines the artificial lighting even the moonlight is gone Pure darkness, solid almost tangible blackness And just as quickly as it had left all the light and noise came back And there strapped to the cold metal slab The monster lay still The defeat, The utter hopelessness, The grief that now was etched so deeply in my beloved masters pale face broke my simple heart And as I was about to take a step towards my master Something, I don't know what made me look towards the monster The monster opened his eyes...
0
Apr 17, 2015
Apr 17, 2015 at 10:07 PM UTC
ca-kitts
Live!!! Live!!! Live!!!
Gray flesh sown and stitched to blue flesh Staples reflect the silvery moonlight The professor scurries about like a crab around the massive human-like Creature on the cold metal slab The monster isn't alive, not yet anyway The professor is hurrying now To make sure everything is perfect before the time comes Wires and cables run from the monsters flesh to an assortment of Machines that whirl and flash with color The machines look like monsters themselves, far more scary then the one on the operating table... The professor, my master, says that this HAS to work... I do not doubt my masters genius But I fear the monster I helped him build From bodies we stole from the morgue where the professor works He says that if it works he will make more I do not understand how the machines, lighting and moonlight and all that complicated things work My mind is too simple for such things I simply serve my master and do what he asks The monster will be my masters greatest achievement The greatest achievement science has ever seen! I know I won't be remembered, my role is too simple for that It will not be written down how I cut up those smelly corpses And sown the dead flesh together to make something new It will not be written how cold it is to sleep on the uneven castle floor With no more then straw and a moth eaten blanket for warmth No, it will not be written down that I was the one to pull the switch No, I will not be remembered but the monster will be The monster my master would not have been able to create without me Me, his faithful servant Me, his pitiful slave Me, the sower of flesh and assistant of a mad man A crazed genius, with skin as white as paper And cold as ice, how my masters eyes almost glow as the time draws near There is not trace of fear on my masters white face With a wild grin that reveals his crooked tombstone like teeth He commands me to do what all the others before me were born to do I reach out my green/grayish hand and... Obey... I pull the black cold lever with the red *** on top The artificial lighting flashes! The moonlight quivers! The machines scream as if alive, as if in pain! The monster writhes and convulses with life Suddenly as if someone had turned a switch everything dies The machines the artificial lighting even the moonlight is gone Pure darkness, solid almost tangible blackness And just as quickly as it had left all the light and noise came back And there strapped to the cold metal slab The monster lay still The defeat, The utter hopelessness, The grief that now was etched so deeply in my beloved masters pale face broke my simple heart And as I was about to take a step towards my master Something, I don't know what made me look towards the monster The monster opened his eyes...
Continue reading...
51