Poem
Elke Erb
ALL TOO RARELY DO WE UNDERSTAND SOMETHING
B is an intelligent, active, creative man.If I don’t start with myself, but one like him –
who is already in the habit of
ordering his own conditions/ suggestions/ ideas,
and certainly also channels the entrance (reception)
of others’ statements –
(if I give my brain this little push, pop)
(yes, yes?:) If for once I don’t start with myself,
but with such an active type,
he will, I realize,
hope that women will tell him
what he cannot grasp under his own direction,
and even lead him past the cliffs to dry land –
or, on the contrary, out to the open sea
(always risky: we run aground on others as on ourselves),
she, however, the gifted woman,
has her own latifundia, her scope and scape (nature) and
unbroken strength, a gifted woman’s strength,
though subject to the random will-o-the-wisp
of (yes? yes?) expected commands –
then of course it can’t work out
at least can’t work out for them!
In spite of everything. Pity!
© Translation: 2013, Rosmarie Waldrop
Note to the following poem: B is Bertold Brecht whom I here see even more positively than usual. She is Marie Luise Fleisser who is a boon to German literature, but did not have much happiness herself. I kept the names out of the text because I considered it as exemplary.
VEEL TE ZELDEN BEGRIJP JE IETS
B is een intelligente, actieve, creatieve man.Ga ik niet van mezelf uit maar van iemand als hem –
die al gewend is aan het gelasten van
zijn voorwaarden / voorstellen / voorstellingen,
en zeker ook het binnenvaren (opname) kanaliseert
van andermans uiteenzettingen –
(geef ik mijn brein die kleine draai, pats)
(ja? ja?:) ga ik eens een keer niet van mezelf uit,
maar dus van zo’n actief type,
dan zal hij, dringt tot me door,
van vrouwen vast wel hopen dat ze hem zeggen
wat hij onder zijn eigen regie niet kan vatten
en hem zelfs gidsen tussen de klippen door aan land –
of omgekeerd, de vrije zee op
(altijd riskant: je strandt net zo op de ander als op jezelf),
maar ze heeft, die begaafde vrouw, toch
haar have-en-goed, haar wijd-en-zijdte (natuur) en ongebroken
kracht, de kracht van de begaafde vrouw,
weliswaar ondergeschikt gemaakt (ja? ja?)
aan het toevallige dwaallicht van een verwacht bevel –
dan kan het ook niets worden,
zo kan het dus niets worden tussen hen!
Ondanks alles. Helaas!
© Vertaling: 2013, Ton Naaijkens
Opmerking bij deze gedicht: B is Bertolt Brecht, die ik hier nu eens positiever zie dan anders. Zij is Marie Luise Fleißer, zij is een zegen voor de Duitse literatuur, maar had zelf niet veel geluk. Ik heb de namen weggelaten, omdat ik de tekst exemplarisch heb opgevat.
VIEL ZU SELTEN VERSTEHT MAN ETWAS
B ist ein intelligenter, aktiver, kreativer Mann.Gehe ich aus nicht von mir, sondern von einem wie ihm –
der seine eigenen Konditionen / Vorschläge / Vorstellungen
anzuordnen bereits gewohnt ist,
und gewiß den Ausführungen anderer die Einfahrt (Aufnahme) auch kanalisiert, –
(gebe ich meinem Hirn diesen kleinen Schwung, Schwapp)
(ja? ja?:) gehe ich einmal aus nicht von mir,
sondern also von einem solchen aktiven Typ,
dann wird er, kriege ich spitz,
von Frauen wohl auch hoffen, sie sagen es ihm, was er
unter der eigenen Regie nicht erfassen kann,
und führen ihn gar durch die Klippen an Land –
oder, umgekehrt, auf das freie Meer
(immer riskant: man scheitert am andern wie an sich selbst),
und es hat aber sie, die begabte Frau,
ihre Latifundien, Weite und Breite (Natur) und ungebrochene
Kraft, die Kraft der begabten Frau,
dem beliebigen Irrlicht eines erwarteten Befehls
(ja? ja?) freilich unterstellt –
dann kann es ja nichts werden,
so kann es mithin nichts werden mit ihnen!
Trotz allem. Schade!
© 2008, Elke Erb
From: Sonanz: 5-Minuten-Notate
Publisher: Urs Engeler Editor, Basel
From: Sonanz: 5-Minuten-Notate
Publisher: Urs Engeler Editor, Basel
Kommentar zum Gedicht: B ist Bertolt Brecht, den ich hier einmal positiver sehe als sonst. Sie ist Marie Luise Fleißer, sie ist ein Glück für die deutsche Literatur, aber hatte selbst nicht viel Glück. Ich habe die Namen verschwiegen, weil ich den Text exemplarisch aufgefaßt habe.
Poems
Poems of Elke Erb
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ALL TOO RARELY DO WE UNDERSTAND SOMETHING
B is an intelligent, active, creative man.If I don’t start with myself, but one like him –
who is already in the habit of
ordering his own conditions/ suggestions/ ideas,
and certainly also channels the entrance (reception)
of others’ statements –
(if I give my brain this little push, pop)
(yes, yes?:) If for once I don’t start with myself,
but with such an active type,
he will, I realize,
hope that women will tell him
what he cannot grasp under his own direction,
and even lead him past the cliffs to dry land –
or, on the contrary, out to the open sea
(always risky: we run aground on others as on ourselves),
she, however, the gifted woman,
has her own latifundia, her scope and scape (nature) and
unbroken strength, a gifted woman’s strength,
though subject to the random will-o-the-wisp
of (yes? yes?) expected commands –
then of course it can’t work out
at least can’t work out for them!
In spite of everything. Pity!
© 2013, Rosmarie Waldrop
From: Sonanz: 5-Minuten-Notate
From: Sonanz: 5-Minuten-Notate
Note to the following poem: B is Bertold Brecht whom I here see even more positively than usual. She is Marie Luise Fleisser who is a boon to German literature, but did not have much happiness herself. I kept the names out of the text because I considered it as exemplary.
ALL TOO RARELY DO WE UNDERSTAND SOMETHING
B is an intelligent, active, creative man.If I don’t start with myself, but one like him –
who is already in the habit of
ordering his own conditions/ suggestions/ ideas,
and certainly also channels the entrance (reception)
of others’ statements –
(if I give my brain this little push, pop)
(yes, yes?:) If for once I don’t start with myself,
but with such an active type,
he will, I realize,
hope that women will tell him
what he cannot grasp under his own direction,
and even lead him past the cliffs to dry land –
or, on the contrary, out to the open sea
(always risky: we run aground on others as on ourselves),
she, however, the gifted woman,
has her own latifundia, her scope and scape (nature) and
unbroken strength, a gifted woman’s strength,
though subject to the random will-o-the-wisp
of (yes? yes?) expected commands –
then of course it can’t work out
at least can’t work out for them!
In spite of everything. Pity!
© 2013, Rosmarie Waldrop
Note to the following poem: B is Bertold Brecht whom I here see even more positively than usual. She is Marie Luise Fleisser who is a boon to German literature, but did not have much happiness herself. I kept the names out of the text because I considered it as exemplary.
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