Sunken Vineta - Tilly Boesche-Zacharow (books recommended by bts .TXT) 📗

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HOW OFTEN
were my
heart and soul
knocked from my hands.

How often
have I
picked up and freed
heart and soul
from the gutter´s debris –

to offer
both anew


SUNKEN VINETA

I listened within myself
and heard the sounds of bells.
On wings of birds
and shining gleam
I slid into the sea.
And when I had emerged again,
I knew – there was no doubt in me -
that clinging deep down in my soul
Vineta - that had sunken lies


I ask
about the sense
of life.

The answer lies
snow-white
upon a snow-white background.
Not to grasp by any vision
to surmise it
by feeling only.


I did not see anyone come,
I did not hear anyone go.
I only felt:
I was not alone.

We have sense of
seeing,
hearing,
taste
and scent.
Thus our existence becomes.
If we lose the sense of
seeing,
hearing,
taste
and scent,
we are still able to vegetate.


The vegetation consists of feeling
A flower does not see,
Does not hear,
Does not taste.
It can only feel.

Break its stem,
and you deprive it of life,
you strike it in its initially only nerve.

Love is a flower –
thus only feeling.
If you rid yourself of feeling,
you will
become a living corpse.


A RARE SONG
- To Reiner -

Stars are hanging
like glistening pearls
at the bosom of heaven.
The coat of the night
covers my bareness,
which is as pale
as the light of the moon.
Selene has lost her soul.
It hangs in the tree tops,
stretches itself as bridge –
Nostalgie is the bow
that moves across the strings,
when I intone my lyre.
Do you hear my song?
Its name:
“Are you still there?”
And:
“Where are you?”


MOBILE

Behold!
Lighter than a draft I was.
Just your breath
made me tremble.
I turned around
toward your thoughts
and your glance
made me dance -
for you.


IN RIO DE JANEIRO

I found you helpless tree –
swaying and dancing in wind -
all the branches full of dreams
I could see
and many drops of dew on them.

When I saw you again
you were without life and destroyed -
GOD in heaven, what happened to you?
Which frost has withered you?


LOST

You have let me go -

“Go alone!”you only said,
and you turned away.
Are you now also as lost
as I must be,
she keeps on going,
and what is the goal?

Only the moon accompanies me
and it swims in the tears
which are filling my hands,
because they have nothing else
that they could hold.


FAITHFULLNESS

Your ashes weigh
heavily upon me.

The urn
instead of the picture
upon the ledge.
How can I
still continue to live?

I have to:
For I promised you
to scatter
both of us
into the winds.


With a sive
I scoop out my life´s contents,
in order to preserve it…
but it pours through the meshes,
as fine as it is.

“Not a single gold grain”,
I think, and I see everything trickle away,
as if it had never existed.


ALL GO PAST
my door.
They know
there´s nothing to take
from me.

They already
have everything !


I am a rectangle
among circles
and want
to stay that way.
My edges are sharp
to ward off and to fight.
I will
risk in action ev´ry corner
if someone wants to polish me.

He will be knifed to death by me.


ENCOUNTER

When I encountered myself
wanted to ask me:
WHO ARE YOU ?
But I just looked at me
silently
and walked past me.

Then I looked back after me
until I had disappeared
and I knew:
I`LL NEVER SEE ME AGAIN !


GRIMSY CHURCH 1984

To have a prayer
I went into the church
and shut the door
behind me
carefully.
Inside there was
darkness and silence
without trace of GOD and heaven.
O GOD, where are you?

I escaped, - flung open the door
and –
was standing in the middle
of the sunshine.
Suddenly there was GOD.
It was good,
and I could have my prayer.


IN LEAFING THROUGH MY GUESTBOOK

….and lastly am I myself
- if truly I reflect in it -
no longer
any more
a guest….


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All rights reserved by:
Poets Press, Madras and author

Text: Parts taken from: MY FOOT GROPES FOR A BRIDGE All rights reserved by Poets Press Madras and author
Publication Date: 04-06-2009

All Rights Reserved